Daughter of Black
by AuroraStarBlack
Summary: Aurora Black is coming to Hogwarts. Meeting the stares of everyone, even the professors. Can she make it through 5 years of Hogwarts without going insane. Will the Golden Trio accept her? Read and find out.
1. Going to Hogwarts

Daughter of Black

Aurora Black is coming to Hogwarts. Meeting the stares of everyone, even the professors. Can she make it through 5 years of Hogwarts without going insane. Will the Golden Trio accept her? Read and find out.

Chapter1: Going to Hogwarts

"Aurora, are you almost finish? If you don't hurry, we will be late and I can't have that!"

I stopped for a moment to answer my godfather. "I'm almost finished, sheesh don't get your nickers in a twist, Uncle Moony. I'm already done with my trunk so you can come up and take it down, it's too heavy for me, you don't want me to fall of the stairs and break my neck, do you?" I yelled back.

I heard him grumbling, but I didn't understand what he said, maybe it was for the best. I looked in the mirror to see if everything was as I wanted it. A small girl with bright green eyes was looking back. Long wavy red hair was falling down the back to stop midway. A tight Jeans, a long black t-shirt and black Converses made the picture complete. Not bad I thought, not bad at all.

I always liked my eyes. They were bright green and uncle Moony said that they were like the path to my soul. That he knew what was wrong with me, just by looking in my eyes. I never could hide anything from him. He always knew what I've done, even when I hide the evidence. But then again, I can't lie to him, not to my godfather, who is raising me. Where are my parent, you wonder? My father, Sirius Black, is in Azkaban. Apparently he killed a lot of people and is a supporter of Voldemort. Yes, I say his name. Why wouldn't I, saying his name won't get me killed. It's not like he's around to kill me, no he's gone. All my credits to Harry Potter for killing him when he was just a baby. Always when I think of that, it gets me laughing. Common, it's pretty funny if you think about it. The greatest wizard on earth (uhum) gets killed by a baby. How pathetic.

My mother died 2 years ago. When she heard that my father was a murderer and a supporter of Voldemort, she was furious. She couldn't believe it and made it her live goal to prove my father's innocents. She died trying. She couldn't handle it anymore. All the setbacks, all the negative answers she got. They drove her insane, so she killed herself. Not atoll thinking about her 11 year old daughter, who was supposed to go to Hogwarts. I didn't go that year, I was to traumatized. Seeing your mother killing herself does that to you. Luckily I over won it. I got over the fact that my mother didn't love me and my father was a murderer. But I have to admit, I believed my mother when she said that he was innocent. I believe my father is innocent and I am going to prove it. Don't know how, don't know when and I definitely don't know if I'm succeed, but I'm going to do so!

"ok, where is that heavy trunk of you, so I can carry it of the stairs and I can break my neck trying!"

Hearing uncle Moony's voice made me break up thoughts. "oh you big baby, don't tell me you've gone weak?" I asked in a tone you use against little children.

"Very funny, Aurora. Are you finished? I don't want to be late."

"Yes I'm ready, it's like the tenth time you asked me already. And we are not going to be late. Are you ready?"

My uncle looked at me with the look _Are you kidding me_? I just laughed in his face and skipped off to the stairs and ran down. "Last one in the car is a turtle!" I yelled. Laughing madly I reached the car first, or so I thought. Standing next to the car, with one eyebrow raised and with a smile was my uncle.

"A turtle, that's what you came up with? I'm very disappointed in you."

"Yeah, didn't think that one trough." I smiled sheepishly.

"come on, get in the car. You're sure you have everything, your textbooks, your cauldron, your wand, your …"

"Yes" I screamed, "I triple checked, like you asked! I have everything, can we go already!"

"ok, ok, so making sure" he replied. He started the engine and we were of, to King Cross station.

I was looking outside the window and I saw all the families, all the children who are going to Hogwarts. Seeing them saying goodbye to one another makes me kind of sad because my parents aren't here to say goodbye, to wave me off. Okay my uncle is here but it's not same. We were here early, can you believe it. So we found us a compartment before anyone else was on the train. Uncle Moony fell asleep straight away. So here I am, all alone with a sleeping uncle. 20 minutes before we leave, I saw a bunch of people coming through the barrier and they all have red hair, like really red hair. They looked like a really tight family. Getting really nervous, I had to go to the bedroom. I left the compartment and I looked around. The train was getting crowded and it took me awhile to find the bathroom. Luckily a friendly boy, whose name I forgot to ask pointed me in the right direction.

When I finally got back, other people where in my compartment.

"Professor R. J. Lupin" I heard someone whisper.

Great they already found out that my uncle is going to be a teacher. I opened the door and the boy with red hair stopped with talking. The tree people inside looked at me.

"hi, sorry but I sat here but I had to go to the bathroom. Do you mind if I sat down again. Your more welcome to stay as well." I said.

"um, sure, thanks" the girl said.

I walked back to the place next to the window and right over my uncle. When I sat down I looked at the others. The girl has bushy brown hair and looked friendly. The boy next to her has black hair that looks like it has a mind on his own. What drew my attention the most were his eyes. They were green just like mine. Now I understood what my uncle meant with _they are the way to the soul_. I could see it now to. I shifted my eyes to the bot next to me, he had bright red hair and freckles. He looked the tallest of the tree. I turned back to the boy with black hair, he looked familiar. I could see them staring at me too.

"Excuse me, but who are you?" asked the girl.

"Oh, how rude of me, my name is Aurora. What are yours?" I answered.

"My name is Hermoine, that is Ron and this his Harry" Hermoine said. She pointed to the boys when she said there name.

"Nice meeting you" I said. I went back to looking out of the window.

"If you don't mind me asking, but are you new here? I never saw you before and you look like the same age as us." Hermoine asked.

"I don't mind atoll. I'm new and I'm going to start my third year here in Hogwarts. I was homeschooled." I said.

"We are in our third year to, we are in Griffindor." Ron said.

"I hope I'm in Griffindor to, my parents and my uncle went there and it's the House there is!" I said smiling. They were very nice, I hope I can become their friend without saying my last name. if I tell them that they are going to hate me.

"Nice, I hope you're in Griffindor to, I could use another girl in my dorm. The other girls in my dorm aren't that friendly." Hermoine said to me.

I smiled at them and we fell in a comfortable silence. They begin to whisper to each other but I didn't mind. It's very obvious that they are great friends.

At one o'clock the food trolley came buy and I bought me some sweets en uncle Moony some chocolate. He would hate me if I forgot the chocolate. The others bought some to and Hermoine began to ask me some questions. Soon we fell in a heated conversation and the boys put in some of their thoughts, but it was mostly Hermoine and me who did the talking. We were having a great time until someone opened our compartment and the mood changed. A boy with blond hair with an attitude from here to China stood there smirking, like he owned the place. Immediately I had a bad vibe from him and made a mental note to keep away from him. Behind him stood two boys. They were both big and looked so stupid. The looked like the bodyguards from the blond boy in the middle.

"Well, look who it is," said the blond boy in a lazy drawl, pulling open the compartment door. "Potty and the Weasel." The two boys chuckled trollishly. "I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley," said the blond boy. "Did your mother die of shock?"

Ron stood up so quickly he knocked the cat's basket to the floor. Uncle Moony gave a snort.

"Who's that?" said the blond boy, taking an automatic step backwards as he spotted uncle Moony.

"New teacher," said Harry, who had got to his feet, too. "What were you saying, Malfoy?"

So his name was Malfoy, I was right, keep away from him Aurora, I said to myself. Malfoy's eyes fell upon me.

"What's this, a new girl? You should know, that some people are better than others, you better remind that. You better come with me so you have some status in the school. What's your name?" he said, holding a hand, really expecting me to take it.

"None of your business" I said in a cold tone. "I know that people are better than others and I know I'm better than you and I know these people are better than you, so if you be so kind and sod off, it would be much appreciated!"

Malfoy looked at me with his mouth wide open.

"C'mon," he muttered resentfully to Crabbe and Goyle, and they disappeared**.**

"Bloody hell" Ron said. He looked at me. "you are amazing".

Harry and Ron sat down again, Ron massaging his knuckles.

"I'm not going to take any rubbish from Malfoy this year," he said angrily. "I mean it. If he makes one more crack about my family, I'm going to get hold of his head and -"

Ron made a violent gesture in mid-air.

"Ron!" Hermoine and I said. We looked at each other and we burst out in laughter. Soon the boys joined in as well.

The rain thickened as the train sped yet further north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering grey, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, but still, uncle Moony slept.

"We must be nearly there," said Ron, leaning forward to look past uncle Moony at the now completely black window.

The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down.

"Brilliant," said Ron, getting up and walking carefully past uncle Moony to try and see outside. "I'm starving, I want to get to the feast..."

"We can't be there yet," said Hermione, checking her watch.

"So why're we stopping?"

The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows. Harry, who was nearest the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments.

The train came to a stop with a jolt and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.

"What's going on?" said Ron's voice.

"Ouch!" gasped Hermione. "Ron, that was my foot!"

"D'you think we've broken down?" Harry asked.

"We can't, it's a magical train." I said

There was a squeaking sound, and I saw the dim black outline of Ron, wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out.

"There's something moving out there," Ron said. "I think people are coming aboard..."

"Quiet!" said a hoarse voice suddenly.

Uncle Moony had appeared to have woken up at last. I could hear movements in his corner. None of us spoke.

There was a soft, crackling noise and a shivering light filled the compartment. Uncle Moony appeared to be holding a handful of flames. They illuminated his tired grey face, but his eyes looked alert and wary.

"Stay where you are," he said, in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet with his handful of fire held out in front of him.

But the door slid slowly open before uncle Moony could reach it. Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in uncle Moony's hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. My eyes darted downwards, and what I saw made my stomach contract.

There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, greyish, slimy-looking and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water...

It was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed my gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of the black material.

And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it was trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.

And an intense cold swept over us all. I felt my own breath catch in my chest.

The cold went deeper than my skin. It was inside my chest, it was inside my very heart...

My eyes rolled up into his head. I couldn't see. I was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in my ears as though of water. I was being dragged downwards, the roaring growing louder...

And then, from far away, I heard screaming, terrible screams. I heard my mother just before she died, before she killed herself, I tried to move my arms to reach her, but I couldn't, I couldn't reach her… a thick white fog was swirling around me, inside me-

"Aurora! Aurora! Are you all right?"

Someone was slapping my face. I opened my eyes and I looked right into the eyes of my uncle. He looked with worried eyes.

"Mum" I whispered with tears in my eyes. "Oh aurora, I'm sorry." He said and he took me in his arms. I looked to the others and saw that Harry was lying on the floor.

Ron and Hermione were kneeling next to him. He looked very sick, just like I felt. Ron and Hermione heaved him back onto his seat.

"Are you OK?" asked Ron nervously.

"Yeah," said Harry, looking quickly towards the door. The hooded creature had vanished. "What happened? Where's that - that thing? Who screamed?"

"No one screamed," said Ron, more nervously still.

Harry looked round the bright compartment.

"But I heard screaming -"

Uncle Moony let go of me and went to his bag. A loud snap made us all jump. Uncle Moony was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces.

"Here," he said to Harry, handing him a particularly large piece. "Eat it. It'll help."

Harry took the chocolate but didn't eat it.

"What was that thing?" he asked Uncle Moony.

"A Dementor," said uncle Moony, who was now giving chocolate to everybody else. "One of the Dementors of Azkaban."

Everyone stared at him. Uncle Moony crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and put it in his pocket.

"Eat," he repeated. "It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me..."

He strolled past Harry and disappeared into the corridor.

"Are you sure you're OK, Harry?" said Hermione, watching Harry anxiously.

"I don't get it... what happened?" said Harry, wiping more sweat off his face.

"Well - that thing - the Dementor - stood there and looked around

- and you - you -"

"I thought you were having a fit or something, just as Aurora" said Ron, who still looked scared. "You two went sort of rigid and you fell out of your seat and started twitching and Aurora just cramped up-"

"And Professor Lupin stepped over you, and walked towards the Dementor, and pulled out his wand," said Hermione.

"And he said 'None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go'

I stiffened at the name Black, but the others didn't notice.

But the Dementor didn't move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned round and sort of glided away..."

"I felt weird," said Ron, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably. "Like I'd never be cheerful again..."

Uncle Moony had come back. He paused as he entered and said, with a small smile, "I haven't poisoned that chocolate, you know..."

Everybody took a bite and you could see that they felt better.

"Why didn't you gave a pace to Aurora?" asked Hermoine.

"I hate chocolate and believe me, on a moment like this I wish I didn't" I said.

"We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes," said uncle Moony. "Are you all right, Aurora, Harry?"

"Fine," we muttered, embarrassed.

We didn't talk much during the remainder of the journey. At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get out; owls hooted, cats meowed.

Uncle Moony and I went to a carriage and we took off to school. At the entrance we past 2 Dementors and I felt sick again. Uncle moony looked at me with worry. We stepped out and I coeld hear Malfoy's voice.

"Did you faint as well, Weasley?" said Malfoy loudly. "Did the scary old Dementor frighten you too, Weasley?"

"Is there a problem?" said a mild voice. Uncle Moony to the rescue.

Malfoy gave uncle Moony an insolent stare, which took in the patches on his robes and the dilapidated suitcase. With a tiny hint of sarcasm in his voice, he said, "Oh, no - er - Professor," then he smirked at Crabbe and Goyle, and led them up the steps into the castle**.**

"Come on, we have to see Professor McGonagall" uncle Moony said. I followed him through the corridor and we stopped before an office. I heard footsteps and I saw a stern looking lady coming this way with Harry and Hermoine trailing behind her. They saw me and smiled.

"Hey Aurora" they said. "Harry, Hermoine" I said in return.

"Come inside" the lady said. We all sit down.

She settled herself behind her desk and said abruptly, "Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you were taken ill on the train, Potter, Black."

I cringed. Now they know. I looked next to me and I saw them looking at me with big eyes. I quickly averted my eyes. My chance at becoming friends with them just flew out of the window.

"I'm fine", I mumbled, "uncle Moony took care of me and also of Harry. Where both fine".

"If you say so and miss Black it would do you good if you remember that here at school it's Professor Lupin." She looked at me with stern eyes.

"Yes professor." I said.

"Very well. Kindly wait outside while I have a quick word with Miss Granger about her timetable, then we can go down to the feast together."

Harry and I went outside and we waited.

"So your last name is Black, huh." Harry said.

"Yes and yes I'm the daughter of Sirius Black, the mass murderer, the one who escaped Azkaban. Look, I didn't choose my parents and I was 1 year old when he was send to Azkaban so I don't know him, so please don't judge me ok, get to know me please." Is said to him, pleading with my eyes.

He looked at me for a while and then he smiled. "Ok, I think I can give you the benefit of the doubt. Nice meeting you Aurora Black." He said, holding his hand out.

"Nice meeting you too Harry Potter and thank you" I smiled when I took his hand.

We only had to wait a few minutes; then Hermione emerged, looking very happy about something, followed by Professor McGonagall, and the four of us made our way back down the marble staircase to the Great Hall.

It was a sea of pointed black hats; each of the long house tables was lined with students, their faces glimmering by the light of thousands of candles, which were floating over the tables in mid-air.**.**

"Oh," said Hermione softly, "we've missed the Sorting."

New students were sorted into houses by trying on the Sorting Hat, which shouted out the house they were best suited to (Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff or Slytherin).

Professor McGonagall strode over towards her empty seat at the staff table, and Harry and Hermione set off in the other direction, as quietly as possible, towards the Gryffindor table. People looked around at them as they passed along the back of the Hall, and a few of them pointed at Harry.

Professor Dumbledore stood when he noticed me.

"Welcome!" said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast... We have a new student in our midst and she's going to start het third year here. So let get her sorted. Aurora Black please come forward."

Whispers broke out everywhere when he said my name. everybody looked at me. Some with rage, some with fear. I looked to the Griffindor and I saw Harry nodding to me. It give me courage and I walked to the front. I sit down on thee-legged stool and Professor McGonagall put the Sorting Hat on my head.

"Ah I wondered when I would have to sort you miss Black. I expected you 2 years ago. Hmmm a great mind, you could do well in Ravenclaw. You're also very loyal, you could do great in Hufflepuff. You want to proof yourself; that you're not you're father, but you have a lot of courage. Coming to Hogwarts being a Black. Mmm difficult. I know, I place you in … GRIFFIINDOR".

The hat was taking of me and the Hall was silent. But then somebody began to cheer. It was Harry and soon Hermoine and Ron joined. I smiled at them and went to sit with them.

"Thank you" I said. "It's nothing" Harry said.

"Welldone miss Black" Dumbledore said. Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued. "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises - or even Invisibility Cloaks," he added blandly, and I s aw Harry and Ron glancing at each other. "It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the Prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs foul of the Dementors."

Dumbledore paused again; he looked very seriously around the Hall, and nobody moved or made a sound.

"On a happier note," he continued, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. Firstly, Professor Lupin, who had kindly consented to fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic, applause. But Harry, Hermoine, Ron and I cheered very laud.

"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued, as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away, "well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

"We should've known!" Ron roared, pounding the table. "Who else would have sent us a biting book?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were the last to stop clapping, and as Professor Dumbledore started speaking again, we saw that Hagrid was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth.

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," said Dumbledore. "Let the feast begin!"

The golden plates and goblets before us filled suddenly with food and drink. Looking at all that food, made me realize how starved I was.

At long last, when the last morsels of pumpkin tart had melted from the golden platters, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for them all to go to bed.

Harry told me to wait for him. I did and soon they came back. Together we went to the common room. A large portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress asked them, "Password?"

"Coming through, coming through!" someone called from behind the crowd. "The new password's Fortuna Major!"

Through the portrait hole and across the common room, the girls and boys divided towards their separate staircases. I climbed the stairs together with Hermoine. We walked in the room and the 2 girls inside fell silent. The looked at me and I could feel the cold stares.

"This is Parvati and this is Lavender" Hermoine said.

"Hi" I said to them. They looked at me and only Parvati gave me a small smile and they turned around and climbed into their bed. Hermoine looked at me shrugged. I bid her goodnight and turned to my own bed. While I was lying there I was thinking that I could have been worse. I turned and I fel asleep. My first night at Hogwarts.


	2. The first day

A/N: Mask with a truth: thanks for the tips ;) I know my English isn't the best, but I try I think I'm going to let my sister read it first. She's really good at languages. Thanks for pointing out that Gryffindor wasn't spelt correctly :p I was thinking that something wasn't right and now I know.

Indigo Lily: Thanks, I will keep writing. Didn't know that it would take so long to write 1 chapter so please don't be mad when it takes some time

Cassia4u: Hey thanks

Sadly I don't own anything

**Chapter 2 : The first day **

Waking up to laud talking and laughter isn't very pleasant, let me tell you that. I opened my curtain and saw Parvati and what was her name again, looking in a magazine. Oh great, now I know what Hermione meant with she didn't like the girls in her dorm. I totally agree with her, I hate brainless girls. Thinking of Hermione I turned the other way to see if she was still sleeping. Impossible with those girls I thought. But her bed was empty and she wasn't in the room anymore. Great so I'm on my own then.

I stood up, took my clothes and went to the bathroom. Having a warm shower in the morning always made me feel better. Standing before the mirror, I was thinking: what to do with my hair today. Leave it down? Probably not, don't know which classes we have to day and I don't won't to lose my hair. Up In a ponytail then. Even in a ponytail my hair was long. O well it's the best I can do for now.

Fully dressed and prepared for a day full of classes I went downstairs to the common room. What I saw there blew my mind. Harry, Ron and Hermione were waiting for me, or so I was hoping. I saw them looking up and they smiled, or I should say Hermione and Harry smiled. Ron just grimaced.

"Good morning Aurora, sorry I didn't wait for you upstairs but Parvati and Lavender were driving me insane" Hermione said. Lavender that was her name.

"It's ok, but if you don't mind waking me up when you get up, I don't want to be awaking by those two again. It was horrible. How do you it?" I said.

"Haha, I just get up early. I'll just wake you up then and save you from them." She smiled.

"Ok, enough of the talking, I'm hungry so let's get going!" Ron said.

"Ron you're always hungry." Harry said, shaking his head.

"Well I'm a growing boy so I should eat!" Ron replied and he walked to the portrait. "You lot coming?"

I laughed and together with Harry and Hermione I followed him.

When we entered the Great Hall for breakfast, the first thing we saw was Draco Malfoy, who seemed to be entertaining a large group of Slytherins with a very funny story. As we passed, Malfoy did a ridiculous impression of a swooning fit and there was a roar of laughter.

"Ignore him," said Hermione, who was right behind Harry. "Just ignore him, it's not worth it..."

"Hey, Potter!" shrieked a Slytherin girl with a face like a pug. "Potter! The Dementors are coming, Potter! Woooooooo!"

We all dropped into a seat at the Gryffindor table, Harry next to a boy with red hair. He must be a brother of Ron.

"New third-year timetables," said the boy, passing them over. "What's up with you, Harry?"

"Malfoy," said Ron, sitting down on the boy's other side and glaring over at the Slytherin table.

The boy looked up in time to see Malfoy pretending to faint with terror again.

"That little git," he said calmly. "He wasn't so co cocky last night when the Dementors were down our end of the train. Came running into our compartment, didn't he, Fred?"

"Nearly wet himself," said another boy identical to the other boy, with a contemptuous glance at Malfoy. They must be twins.

"I wasn't too happy myself," said the first one again. "They're horrible things, those Dementors..."

"Sort of freeze your insides, don't they?" said Fred.

"You didn't pass out, though, did you?" said Harry in a low voice.

"You weren't the only one, Harry, remember me? I fainted as well. It's nothing to be ashamed of. I'm surprised their not including me in their stupid games." I said to him, grabbing myself a piece of toast.

"I believe we haven't met before, my name is Forge and this handsome guy is Gred." Said the first boy with a flourish hand gesture. "You must be the daughter of Black, Miss Aurora."

"Why yes I am. And if I remember correctly, he's Fred that makes you George, unless you switch names to confuse other people and that would make you Fred and him George. Am I right?" I asked in a sweet voice.

George was looking at me with his mound wide open, the same look has his twin.

"Close your mound, you will catch flies and I heard that they aren't that tastefull."

"How did you know?" Fred asked me.

"Simple, my uncle is a prankster, I know a few twins and they do the same thing. Believe me, you would have to do something extreme to surprise or confuse me" I said winking at them.

They both got these wide identical smiles on their faces.

"You, my fair lady, are a girl after our hearts." They said at the same time.

"Anyway, we'll see how happy Malfoy looks after our first Quidditch match," said Fred. "Gryffindor versus Slytherin, first game of the season, remember?"

Hermione was examining her new timetable.

"Ooh, good, we're starting some new subjects today," she said happily.

"Hermione," said Ron, frowning as he looked over her shoulder, "they've messed up your timetable. Look - they've got you down for about ten subjects a day. There isn't enough time."

"I'll manage. I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall."

"But look," said Ron, laughing, "see this morning? Nine o'clock, Divination. And underneath, nine o'clock, Muggle Studies. And-" Ron leaned closer to the timetable, disbelieving, "look - underneath that, Aritmancy, nine o'clock. I mean, I know you're good, Hermione, but no one's that good. How're you supposed to be in three classes at once?"

"Don't be silly," said Hermione shortly. "Of course I won't be in three classes at once."

"Well, then -"

"Pass the marmalade," said Hermione.

"But -"

"Oh, Ron, what's it to you if my timetable's a bit full?" Hermione snapped. "I've told you, I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall."

Just then, Hagrid entered the Great Hall. He was wearing his long moleskin overcoat and was absent-mindedly swinging a dead polecat from one enormous hand.

"All righ'?" he said eagerly, pausing on the way to the staff table. "Yer in my firs' ever lesson! Right after lunch! Bin up since five gettin' everythin' ready... hope it's OK... me, a teacher ... hones'ly ..."

He grinned broadly at them and headed off to the staff table, still swinging the polecat.

"Wonder what he's been getting ready?" said Ron, a note of anxiety in his voice.

The Hall was starting to empty as people headed off towards their first lesson. Ron checked his timetable.

"We'd better go, look, Divination's at the top of North Tower. It'll take us ten minutes to get there..."

We finished our breakfast hastily, said goodbye to Fred and George and walked back through the Hall. As we passed the Slytherin table, Malfoy did yet another impression of a fainting fit. The shouts of laughter followed Harry into the Entrance Hall. The journey through the castle to North Tower was a long one. Apparently two years at Hogwarts hadn't taught them everything about the castle, and they had never been inside the North Tower before. And because it's my first year here, I didn't know the way either.

"There's - got - to - be - a - short - cut," Ron panted, as we climbed the seventh long staircase and emerged on an unfamiliar landing, where there was nothing but a large painting of a bare stretch of grass hanging on the stone wall.

"I think it's this way," said Hermione, peering down the empty passage to the right.

"Can't be," said Ron. "That's south. Look, you can see a bit of the lake out of the window..."

I saw Harry watching the painting. A fat, dapple-grey pony had just ambled out of the grass and was grazing nonchalantly. I was used to the subjects of paintings moving around and leaving their frames to visit each other, but it always enjoyed me watching them. That way they are never the same and you could talk to them, get to know them. I was looking forward to speak to some of the paintings here, they know everything of Hogwarts.

A moment later, a short, squat knight in a suit of armour had clanked into the picture after his pony. By the look of the grass stains on his metal knees, he had just fallen off.

"Aha!" he yelled, seeing Harry, Ron, Hermione and me. "What villains are these that trespass upon my private lands? Come to scorn at my fall, perchance? Draw your knaves, you dogs!"

We watched in astonishment as the little knight tugged his sword out of its scabbard and began brandishing it violently, hopping up and down in rage. But the sword was too long for him; a particularly wild swing made him overbalance; and he landed face down in the grass.

"Are you all right?" said Harry, moving closer to the picture.

"Get back, you scurvy braggart! Back, you rogue!"

The knight seized his sword again and used it to push himself back up, but the blade sank deeply into the grass and, though he pulled it with all his might, he couldn't get it out again. Finally he had to flop down into the grass and push up his visor to mop his sweating face.

"Listen," said Harry, taking advantage of the knight's exhaustion, "we're looking for the North Tower. You don't know the way, do you?"

"A quest!" The knight's rage seemed to vanish instantly. He clanked to his feet and shouted, "Come follow me, dear friends, and we shall find our goal, or else shall perish bravely in the charge!"

He gave the sword another fruitless tug, tried and failed to mount the fat pony, and cried, "On foot then, good sirs and gentle ladies! On! On!"

And he ran, clanking loudly, into the left-hand side of the frame and out of sight. We hurried after him along the corridor, following the sound of his armour. Every now and then we spotted him running through a picture ahead.

"Be of stout heart, the worst is yet to come!" yelled the knight, and we saw him reappear in front of an alarmed group of women in crinolines, whose picture hung on the wall of a narrow spiral staircase.

Puffing loudly, we climbed the tightly spiralling steps, getting dizzier and dizzier, until at last we heard the murmur of voices above us, and knew we had reached the classroom.

"Farewell!" cried the knight, popping his head into a painting of some sinister-looking monks. "Farewell, my comrades-in-arms! If you ever you have need of noble heart and steely sinew, call upon Sir Cadogan!"

"Yeah, we'll call you," muttered Ron, as the knight disappeared, "if we ever need someone mental."

We climbed the last few steps and emerged onto a tiny landing, where most of the class were already assembled. There were no doors off this landing; Ron nudged Harry and pointed at the ceiling, where there was a circular trap door with a brass plaque on it.

"Sybill Trelawney, Divination teacher," Harry read. "How're we supposed to get up there?"

As though in answer to his question, the trap door suddenly opened, and a silvery ladder descended right at Harry's feet. Everyone went quiet.

"After you," said Ron, grinning, so Harry climbed the ladder first.

When came up, I emerged into the strangest-looking classroom he had ever seem. In fact, it didn't look like a classroom at all; more like a cross between someone's attic and an old fashioned teashop. At least twenty small, circular tables were crammed inside it, all surrounded by chintz armchairs and fat little poufs. Everything was lit with a dim, crimson light; the curtains at the windows were all closed, and the many lamps were draped with dark red scarves. It was stiflingly warm, and the fire which was burning under the crowded mantelpiece was giving off a heavy, sickly sort of perfume as it heated a large copper kettle. The shelves running around the circular walls were crammed with dusty-looking feathers, stubs of candles, many packs of tattered playing cards, countless crystal balls and a huge array of teacups.

Ron appeared at my shoulder, as the class assembled around us, all talking in whispers.

"Where is she?" Ron said.

A voice came suddenly out of the shadows, a soft, misty sort of voice.

"Welcome," it said. "How nice to see you in the physical world at last."

My immediate impression was of a large, glittering insect. Professor Trelawney moved into the firelight, and we saw that she was very thin; her large glasses magnified her eyes to several times their natural size, and she was draped in a gauzy spangled shawl. Innumerable chains and beads hung around her spindly neck, and her arms and hands were encrusted with bangles and rings.

"Sit, my children, sit," she said, and we all climbed awkwardly into armchairs or sank into poufs Harry, Ron, Hermione and me sat ourselves around the same round table.

"Welcome to Divination," said Professor Trelawney, who had seated herself in a winged armchair in front of the fire. "My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye."

"Thank God" I said to the others and Harry and Ron laughed. Hermione looked at me with a stern face. "What?" I whispered.

Professor Trelawney delicately rearranged her shawl and continued, "So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can take you only so far in this field..."

At these words, both Harry and Ron glanced, grinning, at Hermione, who looked startled at the news that books wouldn't be much help in this subject. I must admit I looked startled two, I lover reading and I love to learn new things. Harry saw my face and nudged Ron. Ron looked at me two and shaked his head. What, I thought, is wrong with reading?

"Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future," Professor Trelawney went on, her enormous, gleaming eyes moving from face to nervous face. "It is a Gift granted to few. You, boy," she said suddenly to Neville, who almost toppled off his pouf, "is your grandmother well?" I learned his name last night and he's also the friendly boy from on the train who pointed me to the bathroom.

"I think so," said Neville tremulously.

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you, dear," said Professor Trelawney, the firelight glinting on her long emerald earrings. Neville gulped.

Professor Trelawney continued placidly, "We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year. The first term will be devoted to reading tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear," she shot suddenly at Parvati, "beware a red-haired man."

Parvati gave a startled look at Ron, who was right behind her, and edged her chair away from him.

"In the summer term," Professor Trelawney went on, "we shall progress to the crystal ball- if we have finished with fire-omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice."

"So there is really a God." I said. Again Ron and Harry laughed and I even saw a little smile on Hermione's lips.

"And around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever."

A very tense silence followed this pronouncement, but Professor Trelawney seemed unaware of it.

"I wonder, dear," she said to Lavender, who was nearest and shrank back in her chair, "if you could pass me the largest silver teapot?"

Lavender, looking relieved, stood up, took an enormous teapot from the shelf and put it down on the table in front of Professor Trelawney.

"Thank you, my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading- it will happen on Friday the sixteenth of October."

Lavender trembled.

"Now, I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink; drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on its saucer; wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner and read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of Unfogging the Future. I shall move among you, helping and instructing. Oh, and dear-" she caught Neville by the arm as he made to stand up, "after you've broken your first cup, would you be so kind as to select one of the blue patterned ones? I'm rather attached to the pink."

Sure enough, Neville had no sooner reached the shelf of teacups than there was a tinkle of breaking china. Professor Trelawney swept over to him holding a dustpan and brush and said, "One of the blue ones, then, dear, if you wouldn't mind... thank you..."

When we had our teacups filled, we went back to our table and tried to drink the scalding tea quickly. We swilled the dregs around as Professor Trelawney had instructed, then drained the cups and swapped them. Harry and Ron swapped and Hermione and me swapped.

"Right," said Ron, as we opened their books at page five and six. "What can you see in mine?"

"A load of soggy brown stuff," said Harry.

The heavily perfumed smoke in the room was making me feel sleepy and stupid. Was this supposed to be the lesson?

"Broaden your minds, my dears, and allow your eyes to see past the mundane!" Professor Trelawney cried through the gloom.

I tried to pull himself together.

"Right, you've got a wonky sort of cross..." Harry said, consulting Unfogging the Future. "That means you're going to have 'trials and suffering' - sorry about that - but there's a thing here that could be the sun. Hang on... that means 'great happiness'... so you're going to suffer but be very happy..."

"You need your Inner Eye tested, if you ask me," said Ron, and we had to stifle their laughs as Professor Trelawney gazed in our direction.

"My turn..." Ron peered into Harry's teacup, his forehead wrinkled with effort. "There's a blob a bit like a bowler hat," he said. "Maybe you're going to work for the Ministry of Magic..."

He turned the teacup the other way up.

"But this way it looks more like an acorn... what's that?" He scanned his copy of Unfogging the Future. "'A windfall, unexpected gold.' Excellent, you can lend me some. Aad there's a thing here," he turned the cup again, "that looks an animal. Yeah, if that was its head... it looks like a hippo... no, a sheep..."

Professor Trelawney whirled around as Harry and I let out a snort of laughter.

"Let me see that, my dear," she said reprovingly to Ron, sweeping over and snatching Harry's cup from him. Everyone went quiet to watch.

Professor Trelawney was staring into the teacup, rotating it anti-clockwise.

"The falcon... my dear, you have a deadly enemy."

"But everyone knows that," said Hermione in a loud whisper. I had to hold back some laughter. Man this class was a joke. Why did I choose this again?

Professor Trelawney stared at her.

"Well, they do," said Hermione. "Everybody knows about Harry and You-Know-Who."

Harry and Ron stared at her with a mixture of amazement and admiration. It appeared that they had never heard Hermione speak to a teacher like that before. Professor Trelawney chose not to reply. She lowered her huge eyes to Harry's cup again and continued to turn it.

"The club... an attack. Dear, dear, this is not a happy cup..."

"I thought that was a bowler hat," said Ron sheepishly.

"The skull... danger in your path, my dear..."

Everyone was staring, transfixed, at Professor Trelawney, who gave the cup a final turn, gasped, then screamed.

There was another tinkle of breaking china; Neville had smashed his second cup. Professor Trelawney sank into a vacant armchair, her glittering hand at her heart and her eyes closed.

"My dear boy- my poor dear boy- no- it is kinder not to say- no- don't ask me..."

"What is it, Professor?" said Dean Thomas at once. Everyone had got to their feet, and slowly, they crowded around our table, pressing close to Professor Trelawney's chair to get a good look at Harry's cup.

"My dear," Professor Trelawney's huge eyes opened dramatically, "you have the Grim."

"That what?" said Harry.

Harry could tell he wasn't the only one who didn't understand; Dean Thomas shrugged at him and Lavender Brown looked puzzled, but nearly everybody else clapped their hands to their mouths in horror. I stared at the cup. No way, I thought, this could not be happening, it can't be true. This would mean that …, no it's must be a lie.

"The Grim, my dear, the Grim!" cried Professor Trelawney, who looked shocked that Harry hadn't understood. "The giant spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen- the worst omen- of death!"

Lavender Brown clapped her hands to her mouth, too. Everyone was looking at Harry; everyone except Hermione, who had got up and moved around to the back of Professor Trelawney's chair.

"I don't think it looks like a Grim," she said flatly. I took the cup from her hands and looked for myself.

"I agree with Hermione, it doesn't look like the grim, it looks more like a sheep like Ron said."

Professor Trelawney surveyed Hermione and me with mounting dislike.

"You'll forgive me for saying so, my deares, but I perceive little aura around you two. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future."

"When you've all finished deciding whether I'm going to die or not!" said Harry, taking everyone by surprise.

Now nobody seemed to want to look at him.

"Ooh, Harry, you're not going to die. You're way to young and to good looking to die now." I clamped my hand over my mouth. I didn't just said that, did I? Seeing everyone's faces, I must have.

Harry began to laugh. "Thanks Aurora."

"I think we will leave the lesson here for today," said Professor Trelawney, in her mistiest voice. "Yes ... please pack away your things ..."

Silently, the class took their teacups back to Professor Trelawney, packed away their books and closed their bags. I could see that even Ron was avoiding Harry's eyes. Pore Harry.

"Until we meet again," said Professor Trelawney faintly, "fair fortune will be yours. Oh, and dear-" she pointed at Neville, "you'll be late next time, so mind you work extra hard to catch up."

We descended Professor Trelawney's ladder and the winding staircase in silence, then set off for Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration lesson. It took us so long to find her classroom that, early as they had left Divination, we were only just in time.

Harry chose a seat right at the back of the room and I went to sit next to him; the rest of the class kept shooting furtive glances at him and at me, as though he was about to drop dead at any moment and probably me the one who kills him.

I hardly heard what Professor McGonagall was telling us about Animagi (wizards who could transform at will into animals), and wasn't even watching when she transformed herself in front of their eyes into a tabby cat with spectacle markings around her eyes.

"Really, what has got into you all today?" said Professor McGonagall, turning back into herself with a faint pop, and staring around them all. "Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got applause from a class."

Everybody's heads turned towards Harry again, but nobody spoke. Then Hermione raised her hand.

"Please, Professor, we've just had our first Divination class, and we were reading tea leaves, and-"

"Ah, of course," said Professor McGonagall, suddenly frowning. "There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?"

Everyone stared at her.

"Me," said Harry, finally.

"I see," said Professor McGonagall, fixing Harry with her beady eyes. "Then you should know, Potter, that Sybill Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favourite was of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues -" Professor McGonagall broke off, and they saw that her nostrils had gone white. She went on, more calmly, "Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney..." She stopped again, and then said, in a very matter-of-fact tone, "You look in excellent health to me, Potter, so you will excuse me if I don't let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in."

Hermione and I laughed. Not everyone was convinced, however. Ron still looked worried, and Lavender whispered, "But what about Neville's cup?"

When the Transfiguration class had finished, we joined the crowd thundering towards the Great Hall for lunch.

"Ron, cheer up," said Hermione, pushing a dish of stew towards him. "You heard what Professor McGonagall said."

Ron spooned stew onto his plate and picked up his fork but didn't start.

"Harry," he said, in a low, serious voice, "you haven't seen a great black dog anywhere, have you?"

"Yeah, I have," said Harry. "I saw one the night I left the Dursleys."

Ooh no, he couldn't have. This was bad. Stop thinking like this Aurora, I told myself. It could be a stray dog.

Ron let his fork fall with a clatter.

"Probably a stray," I said calmly. Good keep your emotions in check.

Ron looked at me as though I had gone mad.

"Aurora, if Harry's seen a Grim, that's- that's bad," he said. "My- my Uncle Bilius saw one and- and he died twenty-four hours later!"

"Coincidence," said Hermione airily, pouring herself some pumpkin juice.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" said Ron, starting to get angry. "Grims scare the living daylights out of most wizards!"

"There you are, then," said Hermione in a superior tone. "They see the Grim and die of fright. The Grim's not an omen, it's the cause of death! And Harry's still with us because he's not stupid enough to see one and think, right, well, I'd better pop my clogs then!"

I laughed at that. "Good one Hermione." She gave me a smile.

Ron mouthed wordlessly at Hermione, who opened her bag, took out her new Arithmancy book and propped it open against the juice jug.

"I think Divination seems very woolly," she said, searching for her page. "A lot of guesswork, if you ask me."

"There was nothing woolly about the Grim in that cup!" said Ron hotly.

"You didn't seem quite so confident when you were telling Harry it was a sheep," said Hermione coolly.

"Professor Trelawney said you didn't have the right aura! You just don't like being rubbish at something for a change!"

He had touched a nerve. Hermione slammed her Arithmancy book down on the table so hard that bits of meat and carrot flew everywhere.

"If being good at Divination means I have to pretend to see death omens in a lump of tea leaves, I'm not sure I'll be studying it much longer! That lesson was absolute rubbish compared to my Arithmancy class!"

She snatched up her bag and stalked away.

Ron frowned after her.

"What's she talking about?" he said to Harry and me. "She hasn't been to an Arithmancy class yet."

I was pleased to get out of the castle after lunch. Yesterday's rain had cleared; the sky was a clear, pale grey and the grass was springy and damp underfoot as they set off for their first ever Care of Magical Creatures class. Ron and Hermione weren't speaking to each other. Harry walked beside me in silence as we went down the sloping lawns to Hagrid's hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It was only when I spotted three only-too-familiar backs ahead of them that I realised we must be having these lessons with the Slytherins.

Malfoy was talking animatedly to Crabbe and Goyle, who were chortling. I was quite sure I knew what they were talking about.

Hagrid was waiting for his class at the door of his hut. He stood in his moleskin overcoat, with Fang the boarhound at his heels, looking impatient to start.

"C'mon, now, get a move on!" he called as the class approached. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"

For one nasty moment, I thought Hagrid was going to lead us into the Forest.

However, Hagrid strolled off around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, we found ourselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in there.

"Everyone gather round the fence here!" he called. "That's it - make sure yeh can see. Now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books-"

"How?" said the cold, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy.

"Eh?" said Hagrid.

"How do we open our books?" Malfoy repeated. He took out his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, which he had bound shut with a length of rope. Other people took theirs out, some had belted their books shut; others had crammed them inside tight bags or clamped them together with bullclips. I took mine out with nothing. I knew how to open them. Uncle Moony told me.

"Hasn'- hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" said Hagrid, looking crestfallen.

"I did" I said. Hagrid beamed at me.

"How'd you did it?" he asked?

"You have to stroke them down their spine. My uncle told me" I replied.

"Very good. 10 points to Gryffindor."

"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Malfoy sneered. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess!"

"I... I thought they were funny," said Hagrid uncertainly to me.

"Oh, tremendously funny!" said Malfoy. "Really witty, giving us a book that tries to rip our hands off!"

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry quietly.

Hagrid was looking downcast.

"Righ' then," said Hagrid, who seemed to have lost his thread, "so... so yeh've got yer books an'... an'... now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on..."

He strode away from them into the Forest and out of sight.

"God, this place is going to the dogs," said Malfoy loudly. "That oaf teaching classes, my father'll have a fit when I tell him-"

"Shut up, Malfoy, Hagrid isn't an oaf." I said. "Leave him alone"

"Or what, Black, set your crazy father on us. Where is he anyway, shouldn't you join him. That way you can bond, over killing I mean," Malfoy said smirking.

"Leave her alone, Malfoy" Harry said angrily.

Malfoy just smirked my way. Ooh I wish could punch that evil smile of his face. I took a step forward but Harry grabbed my arm before I could any further. "He's not worth it," he whispered in my ear.

"Oooooooh!" squealed Lavender, pointing towards the opposite side of the paddock.

Trotting towards them were a dozen of the most bizarre creatures I had ever seen. They had the bodies, hind legs and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-coloured beaks and large, brilliantly orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly-looking. Each of the had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.

"Gee up, there!" he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures towards the fence where the class stood. Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.

"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

I could sort of see what Hagrid meant. Once you had got over the first shock of seeing something that was half-horse, half-bird, you started to appreciate the Hippogriffs' gleaming coats, changing smoothly from feather to hair, each of them a different colour; stormy grey, bronze, a pinking roan, gleaming chestnut and inky black.

"So," said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "if yeh want to come a bit nearer..."

No one seemed to want to. Harry, Ron and Hermione, however approached the fence cautiously. I followed them.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' Hippogriffs is they're proud," said Hagrid. "Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do."

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle weren't listening; they were talking in an undertone and I had a nasty feeling they were plotting how best to disrupt the lesson.

"Yeh always wait fer the Hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk towards him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed to touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt."

"Right- who wants ter go first?"

Most of the class backed further away in answer. Even Harry, Ron, Hermione and I had misgivings. The Hippogriffs were tossing their fierce heads and flexing their powerful wings; they didn't seem to like being tethered like this.

"No one?" said Hagrid, with a pleading look.

"I'll do it," said Harry.

There was an intake of breath from behind him and both Lavender and Parvati whispered, "Oooh, no, Harry, remember your tea leaves!"

I rolled my eyes, ooh please, they really believed that crap.

Harry ignored them. He climbed over the paddock fence.

"Good man, Harry!" roared Hagrid. "Right then- let's see how you get on with Buckbeak."

He untied one of the chains, pulled the grey Hippogriff away from his fellows and slipped off his leather collar. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath. Malfoy's eyes were narrowed maliciously.

"Easy, now, Harry," said Hagrid quietly. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink- Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much..."

Buckbeak had turned his great, sharp head, and was staring at Harry with one fierce orange eye.

"Tha's it," said Hagrid. "Tha's it, Harry... now, bow..."

Haay gave a short bow and then looked up.

The Hippogriff was still staring haughtily at him. It didn't move.

"Ah," said Hagrid, sounding worried. "Right - back away, now, Harry, easy does it-"

But then, to my enormous surprise, the Hippogriff suddenly bent his scaly front knees, and sank into what was an unmistakable bow.

"Well done, Harry!" said Hagrid, ecstatic. "Right - yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"

Harry moved slowly towards the Hippogriff and reached out towards him. He patted the beak several times and the Hippogriff closed his eyes lazily, as though enjoying it.

The class broke into applause, all except for Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who were looking deeply disappointed.

"Righ' then, Harry," said Hagrid, "I reckon he migh' let yeh ride him!"

"Yeh climb up there, jus' behind the wing joint," said Hagrid, "an' mind yeh don' pull any of his feathers out, he won' like that..."

Harry put his foot on the top of Buckbeak's wing and hoisted himself onto his back. Buckbeak stood up. Harry was looking like he didn't have a clue of what to do.

"Go on, then!" roared Hagrid, slapping the Hippogriff's hindquarters.

Without warning, twelve-foot wings flapped open on either side of Harry.

Buckbeak flew Harry once around the paddock and then headed back to the ground; with a heavy thud the four ill-assorted feet hit the ground.

"Good work, Harry!" roared Hagrid, as everyone except Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle cheered. "OK, who else wants a go?"

Emboldened by Harry's success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied the Hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously, all over the paddock. Neville ran repeatedly backwards from his, which didn't seem to want to bend its knees.

Ron, Hermione and I practiced on the chestnut, while Harry watched.

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle had taken over Buckbeak. He had bowed to Malfoy, who was now patting his beak, looking disdainful.

"This is very easy," Malfoy drawled, loud enough for Harry to hear him. "I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it... I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?" he said to the Hippogriff. "Are you, you ugly great brute?"

"Malfoy!" I screamed but it was too late.

It happened in a flash of steely talons; Malfoy let out a high-pitched scream and next moment, Hagrid was wrestling Buckbeak back into his collar as he strained to get at Malfoy, who lay curled in the grass, blood blossoming all over his robes.

"I'm dying!" Malfoy yelled, as the class panicked. "I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!"

"Yer not dyin'!" said Hagrid, who had gone very white. "Someone help me- gotta get him outta here-"

Hermione ran to open the gate while Hagrid lifted Malfoy easily. As they passed, I saw that there was a long, deep gash in Malfoy's arm; blood splattered the grass and Hagrid ran with him, up the slope towards the castle.

Very shaken, the Care of Magical Creatures class followed at a walk. The Slytherins were all shouting about Hagrid.

"They should sack him straight away!" said Pansy, who was in tears.

"It was Malfoy's fault," snapped Dean.

Crabbe and Goyle flexed their muscles threateningly.

They all climbed the stone steps into the deserted Entrance Hall.

"I'm going to see if he's OK!" said Pansy, and they all watched her run up the marble staircase. The Slytherins, still muttering about Hagrid, headed away in the direction of their dungeon common room; Harry, Ron, Hermione and I proceeded upstairs to Gryffindor Tower.

"Do you think he'll be all right?" said Hermione nervously.

We nodded.

"'Course he will, Madam Pomfrey can mend cuts in about a second," said Harry.

"That was a really bad thing to happen in Hagrid's first class, though, wasn't it?" said Ron, looking worried. "Trust Malfoy to mess things up for him..."

We were among the first to reach the Great Hall at dinnertime, hoping to see Hagrid, but he wasn't there.

"They wouldn't sack him, would they?" said Hermione anxiously, not touching her steak-and-kidney pudding.

"They'd better not," said Ron, who wasn't eating either.

Harry and I were watching the Slytherin table. A large group including Crabbe and Goyle were huddled together, deep in conversation. I was sure they were cooking up their own version of how Malfoy had got injured.

"Well, you can't say it wasn't an interesting first day back," said Ron gloomily.

We went up to the crowded Gryffindor common room after dinner and tried to do the homework Professor McGonagall had set us, but all four of us kept breaking off and glancing out of the tower window.

"There's a light on in Hagrid's window," said Harry suddenly.

Ron looked at his watch.

"If we hurried, we could go down and see him, it's still quite early..."

"I don't know," Hermione said slowly, and I saw her glance at Harry.

"I'm allowed to walk across the grounds," he said pointedly. "Sirius Black hasn't got past the Dementors here, has he?" Then he looked at me. "I'm sorry Aurora, I didn't mean –"

"It's ok, Harry. I know you didn't mean it." I said to him.

So we put our things away and headed out of the portrait hole, glad not to meet anybody on our way out of the front doors, as we weren't entirely sure twe were supposed to be out.

The grass was still wet and looked almost black in the twilight. When we reached Hagrid's hut, we knocked, and a voice growled, "C'min."

Hagrid was sitting in his shirt-sleeves at his scrubbed wooden table; his boarhound, had his head in Hagrid's lap.

One look told us that Hagrid had been drinking a lot; there was a pewter tankard almost as big as a bucket in front of him, and he seemed to be having difficulty getting us into focus.

"'Spect it's a record," he said thickly, when he recognised them. "Don' reckon they've ever had a teacher who on'y lasted a day before."

"You haven't been sacked, Hagrid!" gasped Hermione.

"Not yet," said Hagrid miserably, taking a gulp of whatever was in the tankard. "But 's only a matter o' time, i'n't it, after Malfoy..."

"How is he?" said Ron, as they all sat down. "It wasn't serious, was it?"

"Madam Pomfrey fixed him best she could," said Hagrid dully, "but he's sayin' it's still agony... covered in bandages... moanin'..."

"What a wimp, seriously, Hagrid don't believe him" I told him.

"He's faking it," said Harry at once. "Madam Pomfrey can mend anything. She regrew half my bones last year. Trust Malfoy to milk it for what it's worth."

"School gov'nors have bin told, o' course," said Hagrid miserably. "They reckon I started too big. Shoulda left Hippogriffs fer later... done Flobberworms or summat...jus' thought it'd make a good firs' lesson... 's all my fault ..."

"It's all Malfoy's fault, Hagrid!" said Hermione earnestly.

"We're witnesses," said Harry. "You said Hippogriffs attack if you insult them. It's Malfoy's problem he wasn't listening. We'll tell Dumbledore what really happened."

"I even warned him, but he didn't listen" I said.

"Yeah, don't worry, Hagrid, we'll back you up," said Ron.

Tears leaked out of the crinkled corners of Hagrid's beetle-black eyes. He grabbed both Harry and Ron and pulled them into a bone-breaking hug.

"I think you've had enough to drink, Hagrid," said Hermione firmly. She took the tankard from the table and went outside to empty it.

"Ar, maybe she's right," said Hagrid, letting go of Harry and Ron, who both staggered away, rubbing their ribs.

Hagrid heaved himself out of his chair and followed Hermione steadily outside. They heard a loud splash.

"What's he done?" said Harry nervously, as Hermione came back with the empty tankard.

"Stuck his head in the water barrel," said Hermione, putting the tankard away.

Hagrid came back, his long hair and beard sopping wet, wiping the water out of his eyes.

"Tha's better," he said, shaking his head like a dog and drenching them all. "Listen, it was good of yeh ter come an' see me, I really-"

He stopped dead, staring at Harry and me as though he'd only just realised we were there.

"WHAT D'YEH THINK YOU'RE DOIN', EH?" he roared, so suddenly that we jumped a foot in the air. "YEH'RE NOT TO GO WANDERIN' AROUND AFTER DARK, HARRY AND YOU TO BLACK! AN' YOU TWO! LETTIN' THEM!"

Hagrid strode over to Harry and me, grabbed his and my arm and pulled us to the door.

"C'mon!" Hagrid said angrily. "I'm takin' yer all back up ter school, an' don' let me catch yeh walkin' down ter see me after dark again. I'm not worth that!"

As I was lying in my bed, I was thinking the day over. One thing for sure. There was never a dull moment at Hogwarts and certainly not one with Harry. Thinking about him made me wonder, are we friends now or are they just tolerating me? I don't think Ron likes me very much but Hermione seems ok. And everybody else? Well they just kept on giving me glares and running away from me. I just have to learn to live with it I suppose.

A/N: wow chapter 2 is finished. Yeey

Now you all see that word over there right? Be so kind and do it ;) Thank you!


	3. Snape and uncle Moony

A/N: Thanks for al your reviews, it makes me very happy that you like my stories. Makes me want to write more

I don't own anything

**Chapter 3: Snape and uncle Moony**

"Aurora, wake up," I heard in my ear. I grumbled and turned over. But then I heard it again and again and again.

"ok I'm up," I yawned. I looked at my clock, couldn't overslept. "Bloody hell, it's six in the morning!" I turned and stared at my personal pain in the ass. "Hermione what the hell?"

"You asked me to wake you remember?" she said smiling.

"Yeah, but not this early, really why?" I let myself fall back in my pillow.

"I always get up this early, well suit yourself, I'm going to the common room" she said and she turned around, walking away.

I groaned, great I'm up now. No way in hell I'm going back to sleep now. I sighed, might as well get up now.

Half an hour later I walked downstairs with a book in my hands. Hermione raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. So we stayed there, both reading in complete silence until the boys came down so we could go the Great Hall. This happened every morning.

Malfoy didn't appear in classes until late on Thursday morning, when Slytherins and Gryffindors were halfway through double Potions. He swaggered into the dungeon, his right arm covered in bandages and bound up in a sling, acting, in my opinion, as though he was the heroic survivor of some dreadful battle.

"How is it, Draco?" simpered Pansy. "Does it hurt much?"

"Yeah," said Malfoy, putting on a brave sort of grimace. But I saw him wink at Crabbe and Goyle when Pansy had looked away.

"Settle down, settle down," said Professor Snape idly.

Harry and Ron scowled at each other; Snape wouldn't have said "settle down" if they'd walked in late, he'd have given them detention. But Malfoy had always been able to get away with anything in Snape's classes; Snape was Head of Slytherin House, and generally favoured his own students before all others. They were making a new potion today, a Shrinking Solution. Malfoy set up his cauldron right next to Harry and Ron, so that they were preparing ingredients on the same table.

"Sir," Malfoy called, "sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm-"

"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him," said Snape, without looking up.

Ron went brick red. "There's nothing wrong with your arm," he hissed at Malfoy.

Malfoy smirked across the table. "Weasley, you heard Professor Snape, cut up these roots."

Ron seized his knife, pulled Malfoy's roots towards him and began to chop them roughly, so that they were all different sizes.

"Professor," drawled Malfoy, "Weasley's mutilating my roots, sir."

Snape approached their table, stared down his hooked nose at the roots, then gave Ron an unpleasant smile from beneath his long, greasy black hair.

"Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley."

"But sir-!"

Ron had spent the last quarter of an hour carefully shredding his own roots into exactly equal pieces.

"Now," said Snape in his most dangerous voice.

"Ron do it!" I whispered to him.

Ron shoved his own beautifully cut roots across the table at Malfoy, then took up the knife again.

"And, sir, I'll need this Shrivelfig skinned," said Malfoy, his voice full on malicious laughter.

"Potter, you can skin Malfoy's Shrivelfig," said Snape, giving Harry the look of loathing he always reserved for him and me. No other student get that look, no, only we.

Harry took Malfoy's Shrivelfig as Ron began trying to repair the damage to the roots he now had to use. Harry skinned the Shrivelfig as fast as he could and flung it back across the table at Malfoy without speaking. Malfoy was smirking more broadly than ever.

"Seen your old pal Hagrid lately?" he asked them quietly.

"Shut it Malfoy!" I said with venom.

He turned to me, glaring "I didn't talked to you Black, stay out of other people their conversations."

"I would if the person who is talking wasn't a git and insulting a friend!" I replied.

"Watch your mouth, Black, or else" he said narrowing his eyes.

"Or else what Malfoy? Should I be scared now. It's not like you can do anything right, because of your arm. Imagine it really was injured. That you actually felt the pain it really gives." I said back.

Ron snorted both could cover it up very fast. Malfoy glared at me but he turned around.

Cauldrons away, Neville was in trouble. Neville regularly went to pieces in Potions lessons; it was his worst subject, and his great fear of Professor Snape made things ten times worse. His potion, which was supposed to be a bright, acid green, had turned-

"Orange, Longbottom," said Snape, ladling some up and allowing it to splash back into the cauldron, so that everyone could see. "Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one rat spleen was needed? Didn't I state quite plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?"

Neville was pink and trembling. He looked as though he was on the verge of tears.

"Please, sir," said Hermione, "please, I could help Neville put it right-"

"I don't remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger," said Snape coldly, and Hermione went as pink as Neville. "Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly.

Snape moved away, leaving Neville breathless with fear.

"Help me!" he moaned to Hermione.

"Hey, Harry," said Seamus Finnigan, leaning over to borrow Harry's brass scales, "have you heard? Daily Prophet this morning- they reckon Sirius Black's been sighted." He cast me a glare before he turned back to Harry and Ron. I rolled my eyes, real mature.

"Where?" said Harry and Ron quickly. On the other side of the table, Malfoy looked up, listening closely.

"Not too far from here," said Seamus, who looked excited. "It was a Muggle who saw him. 'Course, she didn't really understand. The Muggles think he's just an ordinary criminal, don't they? So she phoned the telephone hotline. By the time the Ministry of Magic got there, he was gone."

"Not too far from here..." Ron repeated, looking significantly at Harry and me. He turned around and saw Malfoy watching closely. "What, Malfoy? Need something else skinned?"

But Malfoy's eyes were shining malevolently, and they were fixed on Harry. He leaned across the table.

"Thinking of trying to catch Black single-handed, Potter?"

"Yeah, that's right," said Harry offhandedly.

Malfoy's thin mouth was curving in a mean smile.

"Of course, if it was me," he said quietly, "I'd have done something before now. I wouldn't be staying in school like a good boy, I'd be out there looking for him."

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" said Ron roughly.

"Don't you know, Potter and you Black? Don't you what your father did?" breathed Malfoy, his pale eyes narrowed.

"Know what?"

Malfoy let out a low, sneering laugh.

"Maybe you'd rather not risk your neck," he said. "Want to leave it to the Dementors, do you? But if it was me, I'd want revenge. I'd hunt him down myself."

"Shut it Malfoy, or I will do it for you" I said, but at that moment Snape called, "You should have finished adding your ingredients by now. This potion needs to stew before it can be drunk; clear away while it simmers and then we'll test Longbottom's..."

Crabbe and Goyle laughed openly, watching Neville sweat as he stirred his potion feverishly. Hermione was muttering instructions to him out of the corner of her mouth, so that Snape wouldn't see.

The end of the lesson in sight, Snape strode over to Neville, who was cowering by his cauldron.

"Everyone gather round," said Snape, his black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned."

The Gryffindors watched fearfully. The Slytherins looked excited. Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand, and dipped a small spoon into Neville's potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat.

There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small pop, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape's palm.

The Gryffindors burst into applause. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown.

"Five points from Gryffindor," said Snape, which wiped the smiles from every face. "I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed."

We climbed the steps to the Entrance Hall. I was still thinking about what Malfoy had said and looking at Harry so did he, while Ron was seething about Snape.

"Five points from Gryffindor because the potion was all right! Why didn't you lie, Hermione? You should've said Neville did it all by himself!"

Hermione didn't answer. Ron looked around.

"Where is she?"

Harry and I turned, too. We were at the top of the steps now, watching the rest of the class pass us, heading for the Great Hall and lunch.

"She was right behind us," said Ron frowning.

Malfoy passed us, walking between Crabbe and Goyle. He smirked at Harry and me and disappeared.

"There she is," said Harry.

Hermione was panting slightly, hurrying up the stairs; one hand was clutching her bag, the other seemed to be tucking something down the front of her robes.

"How did you do that?" said Ron.

"What?" said Hermione, joining them.

"One minute you were right behind us, and next moment, you were back at the bottom of the stairs again."

"What?" Hermione looked slightly confused. "Oh- I had to go back for something. Oh, no..."

A seam had split on Hermione's bag. I wasn't surprised; I could see that it was crammed with at least a dozen large and heavy books.

"Why are you carrying all these around with you?" I asked her.

"You know how many subjects I'm taking," said Hermione breathlessly. "Couldn't hold these for me, could you?"

"But-" Ron was turning over the books she had handed him, looking at the covers - "you haven't got any of these subjects today. It's only Defence Against the Dark Arts this afternoon."

"Oh, yes," said Hermione vaguely, but she packed all the books back into her bag just the same. "I hope there's something good for lunch, I'm starving," she added, and she marched off towards the Great Hall. I think she's hiding something.

"D'you get the feeling Hermione's not telling us something?" Ron asked Harry and me. We both nodded.

Professor Lupin wasn't there when we arrived at his first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. We all sat down, took out our books, quills and parchment, and were talking when he finally entered the room. Lupin smiled vaguely and placed his tatty old briefcase on the teacher's desk. He was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the train, as though he had had a few square meals. Being a teacher here did him good. I smiled at him.

"Good afternoon," he said. "Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will only need your wands."

A few curious looks were exchanged as the class put away their books. They had never had a practical Defence Against the Dark Arts before.

"Right then," said Professor Lupin, when everyone was ready, "if you'd follow me."

Puzzled but interested, the class got to its feet and followed Professor Lupin out of the classroom. He led them along the deserted corridor and around a corner, where the first thing they saw was Peeves the Poltergeist, who was floating upside-down in mid-air and stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing gum. Peeves didn't look up until Professor Lupin was two feet away, then he wiggled his curly-toed feet and broke into song.

"Loony, loopy Lupin," Peeves sang. "Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin-"

Rude and unimaginable as he almost always was, Peeves usually showed some respect towards the teachers. Everyone looked quickly at Professor Lupin to see how he would take this; to their surprise, he was still smiling.

"I'd take that gum out of the keyhole, if I were you, Peeves," he said pleasantly. "Mr Filch won't be able to get to his brooms."

Filch was the Hogwarts caretaker, a bad-tempered, failed wizard who waged a constant war against the students and, indeed, Peeves. However, Peeves paid no attention to Professor Lupin's words, except to blow a loud wet raspberry.

Professor Lupin gave a small sigh and took out his wand.

"This is a useful little spell," he told the class over his shoulder. "Please watch closely." He raised the wand to shoulder height, said "Waddiwasi!" and pointed it at Peeves.

With the force of a bullet, the wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and straight down Peeves's left nostril; he whirled right way up and zoomed away, cursing.

"Cool, sir!" said Dean Thomas in amazement.

"Thank you, Dean," said Professor Lupin, putting his wand away.

They set off again, the class looking at shabby Professor Lupin with increased respect. He led them down a second corridor and stopped, right outside the staff-room door.

"Inside, please," said Professor Lupin, opening it and standing back.

The staff room, a long, panelled room full of old, mismatched chairs was now empty except for one teacher. Professor Snape was sitting in a low armchair, and he looked around as the class filed in. His eyes were glittering and there was a nasty sneer playing around his mouth. As Professor Lupin came in and made to close the door behind him, Snape said, "Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this."

He got to his feet and strode past the class, his black robes billowing behind him. At the doorway he turned on his heel and said, "Possibly no one's told you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear." .

Neville went scarlet. I glared at Snape; it was bad enough that he bullied Neville in his own classes, let alone doing it in front of other teachers. Professor Lupin had raised his eyebrows.

"I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation," he said, "and I am sure he will perform it admirably."

Neville's face went, if possible, even redder. Snape's lip curled, but he left, shutting the door with a snap.

"Now, then," said Professor Lupin, beckoning the class towards the end of the room, where there was nothing except an old wardrobe in which the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.

"Nothing to worry about," said Professor Lupin calmly, as a few people jumped backwards in alarm. "There's a Boggart in there."

Most people seemed to feel that this was something to worry about. Neville gave Professor Lupin a look of pure terror, and Seamus Finnigan eyed the now rattling doorknob apprehensively.

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Professor Lupin. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks- I once met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the Headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third-years some practice."

"So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a Boggart?"

Hermione put up her hand. "It's a shape-shifter," she said. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione glowed.

"So the Boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a Boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears."

"This means," said Professor Lupin, choosing to ignore Neville's small splutter of terror, "that we have a huge advantage over that Boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"

"Er- because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"

"Precisely," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione put her hand down, looking a little disappointed.

"It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a Boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a Boggart make that very mistake- tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening."

I laughed at that, I could remember it like it was yesterday. Everybody turned to me. I blinked "Sorry, just a memory, carry on."

Uncle moony smiled at me and went on with his lesson.

"The charm that repels a Boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a Boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. We will practise the charm without wands first. After me, please... riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus!" said the class together.

"Good," said Professor Lupin. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville."

The wardrobe shook again, though not as much as Neville, who walked forward as though he was heading for the gallows.

"Right, Neville," said Professor Lupin. "First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"

Neville's lips moved, but no noise came out.

"Didn't catch that, Neville, sorry," said Professor Lupin cheerfully.

Neville looked around rather wildly, as though begging someone to help him, then said, in barely more than a whisper, "Professor Snape."

Nearly everyone laughed. Even Neville grinned apologetically. Professor Lupin, however, looked thoughtful.

"Professor Snape... hmmm... Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"

"Er- yes," said Neville nervously. "But- I don't want the Boggart to turn into her, either."

"No, no, you misunderstand me," said Professor Lupin, now smiling. "I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"

Neville looked startled, but said, "Well... always the same hat. A tall one with a stuffed vulture on top. And a long dress... green, normally... and sometimes a fox-fur scarf."

"And a handbag?" prompted Professor Lupin.

"A big red one," said Neville.

"Right then," said Professor Lupin. "Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your mind's eye?"

"Yes," said Neville uncertainly, plainly wondering what was coming next.

"When the Boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape," said Lupin. "And you will raise your wand- thus- and cry 'Riddikulus'- and concentrate hard on your grandmother's clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into that vulture-topped hat, that green dress, that big red handbag."

There was a great shout of laughter. The wardrobe wobbled more violently.

"If Neville is successful, the Boggart is likely to turn his attention to each of us in turn," said Professor Lupin. "I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you the most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical..."

The room went very quiet. I thought... What scared me most in the world?

My first thought was Voldemort- a Voldemort returned to full strength. But then I thought further. And I found my answer. Seeing my mother lying on the floor with a man standing next to him. I didn't have to think long to know who that man was, my father. It's not what happened in real life, but it was a good alternative. Knowing that my father really was a murderer, it scared me. I didn't want to think about.

"Everybody ready?" said Professor Lupin.

I felt a lurch of fear. I wasn't ready. I didn't think of way to vanish that image.

"Neville, we're going to back away," said Professor Lupin. "Let you have a clear field, all right? I'll call the next person forward... everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot-"

We all retreated, backing against the walls, leaving Neville alone beside the wardrobe. He looked pale and frightened, but he had pushed up the sleeves of his robes and was holding his wand ready.

"On the count of three, Neville," said Professor Lupin, who was pointing his own wand at the handle of the wardrobe. "One- two- three- now!"

A jet of sparks shot form the end of Professor Lupin's wand and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open.

Hook-nosed and menacing, Professor Snape stepped out, his eyes flashing at Neville. Neville backed away, his wand up, mouthing wordlessly. Snape was bearing down upon him, reaching inside his robes.

"R-r-riddikulus!" squeaked Neville.

There was a noise like a whip-crack. Snape stumbled; he was wearing a long, lace trimmed dress and a towering hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture, and swinging a huge crimson handbag from his hand.

There was a roar of laughter; the Boggart paused, confused, and Professor Lupin shouted, "Parvati! Forward!"

Parvati walked forward, her face set. Snape rounded on her. There was another crack, and where he had stood was a blood-stained, bandaged mummy; its sightless face was turned to Parvati and it began to walk towards her, very slowly, dragging its feet, its stiff arms rising-

"Riddikulus!" cried Parvati.

A bandage unravelled at the mummy's feet; it became entangled, fell face forwards and its head rolled off.

"Seamus!" roared Professor Lupin.

Seamus darted past Parvati.

Crack! Where the mummy had been was a woman with floor-length black hair and a skeletal, green-tinged face- a banshee.

She opened her mouth wide and an unearthly sound filled the room, a long, wailing shriek which made the hair on my arms stand on end-

"Riddikulus!" shouted Seamus.

The banshee made rasping noise and clutched her throat; her voice was gone.

Crack! The banshee turned into a rat, which chased its tail in a circle, then- crack!- became a rattlesnake, which slithered and writhed before- crack!- becoming a single bloody eyeball.

"It's confused!" shouted Lupin. "We're getting there! Dean!"

Dean hurried forward.

Crack! The eyeball became a severed hand, which flipped over, and began to creep along the floor like a crab.

"Riddikulus!" yelled Dean.

There was a snap, and the hand was trapped in a mousetrap.

"Excellent! Ron, you next!"

Ron leapt forward.

Crack!

Quite a few people screamed. A giant spider, six feet tall and covered in hair, was advancing on Ron, clicking its pincers menacingly.

For a moment, I thought Ron had frozen. Then-

"Riddikulus!" bellowed Ron, and the spider's legs vanished. It rolled over and over; Lavender squealed and ran out of its way and it came to a halt at my feet. I raised my wand, ready, but-

"Here!" shouted Professor Lupin suddenly, hurrying forward.

Crack!

The legless spider had vanished. For a second, everyone looked wildly around to see where it was.

Then they saw a silvery white orb hanging in the air in front of Lupin, who said "Riddikulus!" almost lazily. I looked worried at him, why did he do that.

Crack!

"Forward, Neville, and finish him off!" said Lupin, as the Boggart landed on the floor as a cockroach. Crack! Snape was back. This time Neville charged forward looking determined.

"Riddikulus!" he shouted, and they had a split second's view of Snape in his lacy dress before Neville let out a great "Ha!" of laughter, and the Boggart exploded, burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone.

"Excellent!" cried Professor Lupin, as the class broke into applause. "Excellent, Neville. Well done, everyone. Let me see... five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the Boggart- ten for Neville because he did it twice- and five each to Hermione and Harry."

"But I didn't do anything," said Harry.

"You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class, Harry," said Lupin lightly.

"Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. Homework, kindly read the chapter on Boggarts and summarise it for me... to be handed in on Monday. That will be all."

Talking excitedly, the class left the staff room. I, however, stayed. I wanted to talk to him and ask him why. Uncle Moony had deliberately stopped my tackling the Boggart. Why?

"Uncle Moony? Could I talk to you for a moment?" I asked. He turned around and smiled.

"Sure, Aurora, what is it?"

"Why didn't you let me face the Dementor? I could easily take it, you know that."

"Yes, I know, but Aurora, I was afraid of what it was going to be. What it would turn in to. I was thinking around the lines of your mother or your father, was I right?"

I looked at the ground. "Yes" I mumbled.

"Ah, you see, I didn't want to scare the others and I didn't want to give them another reason to hate you" he said.

I looked op. he smiled at me. I felt a tear running down my face and I walked straight into his waiting arms.

"I wish they would stop with all the glares and stuff. It's not like I did anything wrong. I'm just a kid." I said sniffing.

"I know honey, I know. I noticed that you made friends though. With Harry and Hermione and Ron. So you're not completely alone."

I looked up into his eyes. His blue eyes always comforted me.

"You really think their my friends?" I asked.

"Look for yourself" he nodded at the door.

I looked behind me and I saw them. they were waiting for me.

"I'm sorry professor, we didn't want to interrupt, we were looking for Aurora, you see" harry said.

"Not a problem atoll. Are we finished or is there anything else you wanted to talk to me about?" uncle Moony asked me.

"No, I'm good thanks" is said smiling. I give him a last hug and turned to my friend. Wow it really felt good, calling them my friends.

The rest of the day I walked around with a big smile on my face.

A/N: wow this chapter went very fast to write. Hope you like it. Please review


	4. Dad?

**A/N: I don't own anything, except for Aurora Black**

**Chapter 4: Dad?**

In no time at all, Defense Against the Dark Arts had become most people's favorite class. Only Draco Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins had anything bad to say about Professor Lupin.

"Look at the state of his robes," Malfoy would say in a loud whisper as Professor Lupin passed. "He dresses like our old house-elf."

But no one else cared that Professor Lupin's robes were patched and frayed. His next few lessons were just as interesting as the first. After Boggarts, they studied Red Caps, nasty little goblin-like creatures that lurked wherever there had been bloodshed, in the dungeons of castles and the portholes of deserted battlefields, waiting to bludgeon those who had got lost. From Red Caps they moved on to Kappas, creepy water-dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds.

I only wished I was as happy with some of my other classes. Worst of all was Potions. Snape was in a particularly vindictive mood these days, and no one was in any doubt why.

The story of the Boggart assuming Snape's shape, and the way that Neville had dressed it in his grandmother's clothes, had travelled through the school like wildfire. Snape didn't seem to find it funny.

His eyes flashed menacingly at the very mention of Professor Lupin's name, and he was bullying Neville worse than ever.

Nobody really liked Care of Magical Creatures, which, after the action-packed first class, had become extremely dull.

Hagrid seemed to have lost his confidence. We were now spending lesson after lesson learning how to look after Flobberworms, which had to be some of the most boring creatures in existence.

"Why would anyone bother looking after them?" said Ron, after yet another hour of poking shredded lettuce down the Flobberworms' slimy throats.

At the start of October, however, I had something else to occupy me, something so enjoyable it made up for those unsatisfactory classes. The Quidditch season was approaching.

There were seven people on a Quidditch team: three Chasers, whose job it was to score goals by putting the Quaffle (a red, football-sized ball) through one of the fifty-foot-high hoops at each end of the pitch; two Beaters, who were equipped with heavy bats to repel the Bludgers (two heavy black balls which zoomed around trying to attack the players); a Keeper, who defended the goalposts, and the Seeker, who had the hardest job of all, that of catching the Golden Snitch, a tiny, winged, walnut-sized ball, whose capture ended the game and earned the Seeker's team an extra one hundred and fifty points. Harry was seeker for the Gryffindor team. The chasers were Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell. The keeper Oliver Wood and the beaters the Weasley twins.

Full of determination, the team started training sessions, three evenings a week. The weather was getting colder and wetter, the nights darker.

Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room one evening after training.

"What's happened?" he asked us, who were sitting in three of the best chairs by the fireside and completing some star charts for Astronomy.

"First Hogsmeade weekend," said Ron, pointing at a notice that had appeared on the battered old notice-board. "End of October. Hallowe'en."

"Excellent," said Fred, who had followed Harry through the portrait hole. "I need to visit Zonko's, I'm nearly out of Stink Pellets."

Harry threw himself into a chair beside Ron. Hermione seemed to read his mind.

"Harry, I'm sure you'll be able to go next time,"she said. "They're bound to catch Black soon, he's been sighted once already."

"Black's not fool enough to try anything in Hogsmeade," said Ron. "Ask McGonagall if you can go this time, Harry, the next one might not be for ages -"

"Ron!" said Hermione. "Harry's supposed to stay in school-"

"He can't be the only third-year left behind," said Ron.

"He won't be the only third-years who is staying here. I will be to. Uncle Moony doesn't want me to go with dad running out there. He doesn't want me to get hurt." I said.

The others stared at me.

"Really, why would Black hurt you, I mean you're his daughter." Ron said.

I looked at him like he was dumb. "He could hurt me as much as he hurts any of you. Don't forget that I was only one year old when he was captured and send to Azkaban. U grew a lot since then. I changed. He won't recognize me."

"Oh yeah right, sorry," Ron said, "but that doesn't mean that Harry can't try. Ask McGonagall, go on, Harry-"

"Yeah, I think I will," said Harry, making up his mind.

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but at that moment Crookshanks leapt lightly onto her lap. A large, dead spider was dangling from his mouth.

"Does he have to eat that in front of us?" said Ron, scowling.

"Clever Crookshanks, did you catch that all by yourself?" said Hermione.

Crookshanks slowly chewed up the spider, his yellow eye fixed insolently on Ron.

"Just keep him over there, that's all," said Ron irritably, turning back to his star chart. "I've got Scabbers asleep in my bag."

Harry yawned. He pulled his bag towards him, took out parchment, ink and quill, and started work.

"You can copy mine, if you like," said Ron, labeling his last Star with a flourish and shoving the chart towards Harry.

Hermione, who disapproved of copying, pursed her lips, but didn't say anything.

"Ron, how is he going to learn anything if he copies everything and especially from you." I said shaking my head.

Crookshanks was still staring unblinkingly at Ron, flicking the end of his bushy tail. Then, without warning, he pounced.

"OY!" Ron roared, seizing his bag, as Crookshanks sank four sets of claws deeply into it, and began tearing ferociously. "GET OFF, YOU STUPID ANIMAL!"

Ron tried to pull the bag away from Crookshanks, but Crookshanks clung on, spitting and slashing.

"Ron, don't hurt him!" squealed Hermione.

The whole common room was watching; Ron whirled the bag around, Crookshanks still clinging to it, and Scabbers came flying out of the top-

"CATCH THAT CAT!" Ron yelled, as Crookshanks freed himself from the remnants of the bag, sprang over the table and chased after the terrified Scabbers.

George Weasley made a lunge for Crookshanks but missed; Scabbers streaked through twenty pairs of legs and shot beneath an old chest of drawers. Crookshanks skidded to a halt, crouched low on his bandy legs and started making furious swipes beneath the chest of drawers with his front paw.

Ron and Hermione hurried over; Hermione grabbed Crookshanks around the middle and heaved him away; Ron threw himself onto his stomach and, with great difficulty, pulled Scabbers out by the tail.

"Look at him!" he said furiously to Hermione, dangling Scabbers in front of her. "He's skin and bone! You keep that cat away from him!"

"Crookshanks doesn't understand it's wrong," said Hermione, her voice shaking. "All cats chase rats, Ron!"

"There's something funny about that animal!" said Ron, who was trying to persuade a frantically wriggling Scabbers back into his pocket. "It heard me say that Scabbers was in my bag!"

"Oh, what rubbish," said Hermione impatiently. "Crookshanks could smell him, Ron, how else d'you think-"

"That cat's got it in for Scabbers!" said Ron, ignoring the people around him, who were starting to giggle. "And Scabbers was here first, and he's ill!"

Ron marched through the common room and out of sight up the stairs to the boys' dormitories. Ron was still in a bad mood with Hermione next day. He barely talked to her all through Herbology, even though we were working together on the same Puffapod.

"How's Scabbers?" Hermione asked timidly, as they stripped fat pink pods from the plants and emptied the shining beans into a wooden pail.

"He's hiding at the bottom of my bed, shaking," said Ron angrily, missing the pail and scattering beans over the greenhouse floor.

"Careful, Weasley, careful!" cried Professor Sprout, as the beans burst into bloom before their very eyes.

They had Transfiguration next. There was a disturbance at the front of the line.

Lavender seemed to be crying. Parvati had her arm around her, and was explaining something to Seamus and Dean, who were looking very serious.

"What's the matter, Lavender?" said Hermione anxiously, as we went to join the group.

"She got a letter from home this morning," Parvati whispered. "It's her rabbit, Binky. He's been killed by a fox."

"Oh," said Hermione. "I'm sorry, Lavender."

"I should have known!" said Lavender tragically. "You know what day it is?"

"Er-"

"The sixteenth of October! 'That thing you're dreading, it will happen on the sixteenth of October!' Remember? She was right, she was right!"

The whole class was gathered around Lavender now. Seamus shook his head seriously. Hermione hesitated; then said, "You- you were dreading Binky being killed by a fox?"

"Well, not necessarily by a fox," said Lavender, looking up at Hermione with streaming eyes, "but I was obviously dreading him dying, wasn't I?"

"Oh," said Hermione. She paused again. Then-

"Was Binky an old rabbit?"

"N-no!" sobbed Lavender. "H-he was only a baby!"

Parvati tightened her arm around Lavender's shoulders.

"But then, why would you dread him dying?" said Hermione.

Parvati glared at her.

"Well, look at it logically," said Hermione, turning to the rest of the group. "I mean, Binky didn't even die today, did he, Lavender just got the news today-" Lavender wailed loudly "-and she can't have been dreading it, because it's come as a real shock-"

"Don't mind Hermione, Lavender," said Ron loudly, "she doesn't think other people's pets matter very much."

"Ron!" I said, glaring at him.

Professor McGonagall opened the classroom door at that moment, which was perhaps lucky; Ron and Hermione were looking daggers at each other, and when they got into class, Hermione placed herself next to me an Ron went to sit next to Harry and didn't talk to each other all lesson.

"One moment, please!" she called, as the class made to leave. "As you're all in my house, you should hand Hogsmeade permission forms to me before Hallowe'en. No form, no visiting the village, so don't forget."

Neville put up his hand. "Please, professor, I- I think I've lost-"

"Your grandmother sent yours to me directly, Longbottom," said Professor McGonagall. "She seemed to think it was safer. Well, that's all, you may leave."

"Ask her now," Ron hissed at Harry.

"Oh, but-" Hermione began.

"Harry, I don't think-" I began.

"Go for it, Harry," said Ron stubbornly.

Harry waited for the rest of the class to disappear, then headed for Professor McGonagall's desk.

"Yes, Potter?"

"Professor, my aunt and uncle- er- forgot to sign my form," he said.

Professor McGonagall looked over her square spectacles at him, but didn't say anything.

"So- er- d'you think it would be all right - I mean, will it be OK if I - if I go to Hogsmeade?"

Professor McGonagall looked down and began shuffling papers on her desk.

"I'm afraid not, Potter," she said. "You heard what I said. No form, no visiting the village. That's the rule."

"But- Professor, my aunt and uncle - you know, they're Muggles, they don't really understand about- about Hogwarts forms and stuff," Harry said, while Ron egged him on with vigorous nods. "If you said I could go-"

"But I don't say so," said Professor McGonagall, standing up and piling her papers neatly into a drawer. "The form clearly states that the parent or guardian must give permission."

She turned to look at him, with an odd expression on her face. Was it pity?

"I'm sorry, Potter, but that's my final word. You had better hurry, or you'll be late for your next lesson."

There was nothing to be done. Ron called Professor McGonagall a lot of names that greatly annoyed Hermione and me; Hermione assumed an 'all for the best' expression that made Ron even angrier, and Harry and I had to endure everyone in the class talking loudly and happily about what they were going to do first, once they got into Hogsmeade.

"There's always the feast," said Ron, in an effort to cheer us up. "You know, the Hallowe'en feast, in the evening."

"Yeah," said Harry, gloomily, "great."

"Wonderfull," I said, "but we still got each other right?

"Yeah, I guess you're right." He said smiling to me.

Dean Thomas, who was good with a quill, had offered to forge Uncle Vernon's signature on the form, but as Harry had already told Professor Mcgonagall, he hadn't had it signed, that was no good.

Ron half-heartedly suggested the Invisibility Cloak, but Hermione stamped on that one, reminding Ron what Dumbledore had told them about the Dementors being able to see through them. I think they forgot I was there, an Invisibility Cloak?

Percy had what were possibly the least helpful words of comfort.

"They make a fuss about Hogsmeade, but I assure you, Harry, it's not all it's cracked up to be," he said seriously. "All right, the sweetshop's rather good, but Zonko's Joke Shop's frankly dangerous, and yes, the Shrieking Shack's always worth a visit, but really, Harry, apart from that, you're not missing anything."

Notice how he totally ignored me? Being friends with the his brothers didn't change anything. He still hated me.

On Hallowe'en morning, I awoke with the rest and went down to breakfast feeling thoroughly depressed, though doing my best to act normally.

"We'll bring you lots of sweets back from Honeydukes, but not anything with chocolate," said Hermione, looking desperately sorry for us.

"Yeah, loads," said Ron. He and Hermione had finally forgotten their squabble about Crookshanks in the face of our disappointment.

"Don't worry about us," said Harry, in what I hoped was an offhand voice. "We'll see you at the feast. Have a good time."

We accompanied them to the Entrance Hall, where Filch, the caretaker, was standing inside the front doors, checking off names against a long list, peering suspiciously into every face, and making sure no one was sneaking out who shouldn't be going.

"Staying here, Potter, Black?" shouted Malfoy, who was standing with Crabbe and Goyle. "Scared of passing the Dementors? Or scared that you will ran into your father?"

We ignored him and made our way up the marble staircase, through the deserted corridors, and back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Password?" said the Fat Lady, jerking out of a doze.

"Fortuna Major," said Harry listlessly.

The portrait swung open and we climbed through the hole into the common room. It was full of chattering first- and second-years, and a few older students who had obviously visited Hogsmeade so often the novelty had worn off.

"Harry! Harry! Hi, Harry!"

It was Colin Creevey, a second-year who was deeply in awe of Harry and never missed an opportunity to speak to him.

"Aren't you going to Hogsmeade, Harry? Why not? Hey-" Colin looked eagerly around at his friends, "you can come and sit with us, if you like, Harry!"

"What am I? Chopped liver?" I whispered to myself.

"Er- no thanks, Colin," said Harry, "We- We've got to go to the library, got to get some work done."

After that, we had no choice but to turn right around and head back out of the portrait hole again.

"What was the point of waking me up?" the Fat Lady called grumpily after us as we walked away.

We walked the halls with either of us saying anything. We turned around a corner and came face to face with Filch, who had obviously just seen off the last of the Hogsmeade visitors.

"What are you doing?" Filch snarled suspiciously.

"Nothing," said Harry truthfully.

"Nothing!" spat Filch, his jowls quivering unpleasantly. "A likely story! Sneaking around on, why aren't you in Hogsmeade buying Stink Pellets and Belch Powder and Whizzing Worms like the rest of your nasty little friends?"

Harry shrugged.

"Well, get back to your common room where you belong!" snapped Filch, and he stood glaring until we had passed out of sight.

But we didn't go back to the common room; we climbed a staircase, and were walking along another corridor when a voice from inside one of the rooms said, "Harry, Aurora?"

We doubled back to see who had spoken and met Professor Lupin, looking around his office door.

"What are you doing?" said uncle Moony, in a very different voice from Filch. "Where are Ron and Hermione?"

"Hogsmeade," said Harry, in a would-be casual voice.

"Ah," said uncle Moony. "Why don't you come in? I've just taken a delivery of a Grindylow for our next lesson."

"A what?" said Harry and I.

We followed uncle Moony into his office. In the corner stood a very large tank of water. A sickly-green creature with sharp little horns had its face pressed against the glass, pulling faces and flexing its long, spindly fingers.

"Water demon," said uncle Moony, surveying the grindylow thoughtfully. "We shouldn't have much difficulty with him, not after the Kappas. The trick is to break his grip. You notice the abnormally long fingers? Strong, but very brittle."

The grindylow bared its green teeth and then buried itself in a tangle of weeds in the corner.

"Cup of tea?" uncle Moony said, looking around for his kettle. "I was just thinking of making one."

"Love some," I smiled and I took a seat.

"All right," said Harry awkwardly.

Uncle Moony tapped the kettle with his wand and a blast of steam issued suddenly from the spout.

"Sit down," said uncle Moony, taking the lid off a dusty tin. "I've only got teabags, I'm afraid- but I daresay you've had enough of tea leaves?"

"You've got Citron?" I asked eagerly?

"Always Aurora, here" and he threw me one. Mmm Citron is my favorite.

"How did you know about that?" Harry asked.

"Professor McGonagall told me," said Uncle Moony, passing Harry a chipped mug of tea. "You're not worried, are you?"

"No," said Harry.

Uncle Moony said, "Anything worrying you, Harry?"

"No," Harry said.

I drank a bit of tea and watched the grindylow brandishing a fist at me.

"Yes," Harry said suddenly, putting his tea down on Lupin's desk. "You know that day on the train?"

"Yes," said uncle Moony slowly. I was looking at Harry, what was he getting at?

"Why did I and Aurora fainted and the others didn't?" said Harry abruptly.

Uncle Moony raised his eyebrows.

"I would have thought that was obvious, Harry," he said, sounding surprised.

"Why?" he said again.

"Ooh, Harry, don't tell me you don't know anything about Dementors?" I asked him.

"No, I don't, muggle raised remember?" he said.

"Dementors take away every happy thought you have, so you only have the bad ones left. They feed on it. The reason you and I fainted was because we have a much worse youth than anyone else. You lost both your parents and you were almost killed as well. I have a father who is a murderer and a mother who killed herself right before my eyes." I explained to him.

He looked at me with wide eyes. "I'm sorry a out your mother, I didn't know!"

"It's ok, I didn't tell you" I leaned back in my chair.

Uncle Moony looked at me with pride his eyes.

"Professor Lupin, you know the Dementors-"

Harry was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Come in," called uncle Moony.

The door opened, and in came Snape.

He was carrying a goblet, which was smoking faintly, and stopped at the sight of Harry and me, his black eyes narrowing.

"Ah, Severus," said uncle Moony smiling. "Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?"

Snape set the smoking goblet down, his eyes wandering between Harry, me and uncle Moony.

"I was just showing Harry and Aurora my grindylow," said uncle Moony pleasantly, pointing at the tank.

"Fascinating," said Snape, without looking at it. "You should drink that directly, Lupin."

"Yes, yes, I will," said uncle moony.

"I made an entire cauldronful," Snape continued. "If you need more."

"I should probably take some again tomorrow. Thanks very much, Severus."

"Not at all," said Snape, but there was a look in his eye I didn't like. He backed out of the room, unsmiling and watchful.

Harry looked curiously at the goblet. Uncle Moony smiled.

"Professor Snape had very kindly concocted a potion for me," he said. "I have never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex."

He picked up the goblet and sniffed it. "Pity sugar makes it useless," he added, taking a sip and shuddering.

"Why-?" Harry began. Uncle Moony looked at him and answered the unfinished question.

"I've been feeling a little off-colour," he said. I looked at him worried. I didn't realize it was almost time.

"This potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren't many wizards who are up to making it."

Uncle Moony took another sip and Harry looked at it funny. Don't do anything funny, I thought.

"Professor Snape's very interested in the Dark Arts," he blurted out.

"Really?" said uncle Moony, looking only mildly interested as he took another gulp of potion.

"Some people reckon-" Harry hesitated, then plunged recklessly on, "some people reckon he'd do anything to get the Defence Against the Dark Arts job."

Uncle Moony drained the goblet and pulled a face.

"Disgusting," he said. "Well, Harry, Aurora, I'd better get back to work. I'll see you at the feast later. Aurora, visit me anytime you want, we need to catch up"

"Right," said Harry, putting his empty teacup down.

"Sure uncle Moony." I walked to him and give him a hug.

The empty goblet was still smoking.

"There you go," said Ron. "We got as much as we could carry."

A shower of brilliantly coloured sweets fell onto our lap.

It was dusk, and Ron and Hermione had just turned up in the common room, pink-faced from the cold wind looking as though they'd had the time of their lives.

"Thanks," said Harry, picking up a packet of tiny black Pepper Imps. "What's Hogsmeade like? Where did you go?"

By the sound of it - everywhere. Dervish and Banges, the wizarding equipment shop, Zonko's joke shop, into the Three Broomsticks for foaming mugs of hot Butterbeer and many places besides.

"The post office, Harry! About two hundred owls, all sitting on shelves, all colour-coded depending on how fast you want your letter to get there!"

"Honeydukes have got a new kind of fudge, they were giving out free samples, there's a bit, look-"

"We think we saw an ogre, honestly, they get all sorts at the Three Broomsticks-"

"Wish we could have brought you some Butterbeer, really warms you up-"

"What did you do?" said Hermione, looking anxious. "Did you get any work done?"

"No," said Harry. "Lupin made me a cup of tea in his office. And then Snape came in..."

He told them all about the goblet. Ron's mouth fell open.

"Lupin drank it?" he gasped. "Is he mad?"

"No, he's not mad! It was for his health. Uncle Moony has some trouble with it and that potion helps him" I said, "Would you let it rest?"

Hermione checked her watch.

"We'd better go down, you know, the feast'll be starting in five minutes..." We hurried through the portrait hole and into the crowd, still discussing Snape.

"But if he- you know-" Hermione dropped her voice, glancing nervously around, "if he was trying to- to poison Lupin- he wouldn't have done it in front of Harry."

"He didn't tried to poison him!" I said.

"Yeah, maybe," said Harry, as we reached the Entrance Hall and crossed into the Great Hall. It had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant watersnakes.

The food was delicious; even Hermione and Ron, who were full to bursting with Honeydukes sweets, managed second helpings of everything. I kept glancing at the staff table. Uncle Moony looked cheerful and as well as he ever did; he was talking animatedly to tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher.

I moved my eyes along the table, to the place where Snape sat. Was I imagining it, or were Snape's eyes flickering towards uncle Moony more often than was natural?

The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a spot of formation gliding; Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had a great success with a re-enactment of his own botched beheading.

It had been such a good evening that my good mood couldn't even be spoiled by Malfoy, who shouted through the crowd as they all left the Hall, "The Dementors send their love, Potter, Black!"

We followed the rest of the Gryffindor's along the usual path to Gryffindor Tower, but when we reached the corridor which ended with the portrait of the Fat Lady, we found it jammed with students.

"Why isn't anyone going in?" said Ron curiously.

Harry peered over the heads in front of him. The portrait seemed to be closed.

"Let me through, please," came Percy's voice, and he came bustling importantly through the crowd. "What's the hold-up here? You can't all have forgotten the password- excuse me, I'm Head Boy-"

And then a silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor. They heard Percy say, in a suddenly sharp voice, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."

People's heads turned; those at the back were standing on tip-toe.

"What's going on?" said Ginny, the little sister of Ron who had just arrived.

Next moment, Professor Dumbledore was there, sweeping towards the portrait; the Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through, and we moved closer to see what the trouble was.

"Oh, my-" Hermione exclaimed and grabbed Harry's arm.

The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely.

"We need to find her," said Dumbledore. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."

"You'll be lucky!" said a cackling voice.

It was Peeves the Poltergeist, bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted, as he always did, at the sight of wreckage or worry.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" said Dumbledore calmly, and Peeves's grin faded a little. He didn't dare taunt Dumbledore. Instead, he adopted this oily voice that was no better than his cackle.

"Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily. .

"Did she say who did it?" said Dumbledore quietly.

"Oh, yes, Professorhead," said Peeves, with the air of one cradling a large bombshell in his arms. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." Peeves flipped over, and grinned at Dumbledore from between his own legs. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

Everybody turned to look at me. I just stood there, eyes wide open. No, I thought, he couldn't be here, I just couldn't. Hermione looked at me and saw my distress. She took me in her arms and whispered reassuring in my ear.

**A/N another chapter done, yeey me please review!**


	5. Stares, Hate and Quidditch

**A/N: I don't own anything**

**Chapter 5: Stares, Hate and Quidditch**

Professor Dumbledore sent all the Gryffindors back to the Great Hall, where we were joined ten minutes later by the students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin, who all looked extremely confused.

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Professor Dumbledore told them as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed all the doors into the Hall. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the Prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the Hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," he added to Percy, who was looking immensely proud and important. "Send word with one of the ghosts."

Professor Dumbledore paused, about to leave the Hall, and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing..."

One casual wave of his wand and the long tables flew to the edges of the Hall and stood themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.

"Sleep well," said Professor Dumbledore, closing the door behind him.

The Hall immediately began to buzz excitedly; the Gryffindors were telling the rest of the school what had just happened.

"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" shouted Percy. "Come on now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"

"C'mon," Ron said to us; we seized four sleeping bags and dragged them into a corner.

"Do you think Black's still in the castle?" Hermione whispered anxiously.

"Dumbledore obviously thinks he might be," said Ron.

"It's very lucky he picked tonight, you know," said Hermione, as we climbed fully dressed into our sleeping bags and propped ourselves on their elbows to talk. "The one night we weren't in the Tower..."

" Reckon he's lost track of time, being on the run," said Ron. "Didn't realize it was Halloween. Otherwise he'd have come bursting in here."

Hermione shuddered.

All around them, people were asking each other the same question: "How did he get in?"

"Maybe he knows how to Apparate," said a Ravenclaw a few feet away. "Just appear out of thin air, you know."

"Ooh please, don't they know you can't Apparate in Hogwarts. I'm a the only one who read Hogwarts, A History?" I said, the first thing of the evening.

The others looked at me.

"You're not the only one who read it, I did to!" Hermione said excited.

"Disguised himself, probably," said a Hufflepuff fifth-year.

"He could've flown in," suggested Dean.

"Honestly, are we the only persons who's ever bothered to read Hogwarts, A History?" said Hermione crossly to Harry and Ron.

"Probably," said Ron. "Why?"

"Because the castle's protected by more than walls, you know," said Hermione. "There's all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth. You can't just Apparate in here. and I'd like to see the disguise that could fool those Dementors. They're guarding every single entrance to the grounds. They'd have seen him fly in, too. And Filch knows all the secret passages, they'll have them covered..."

"Somehow, I don't believe that," I said, "I think the twins now a lot to, at least that's what they told me."

"The lights are going out now!" Percy shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"

The candles all went out at once. The only light now came from the silvery ghosts, who were drifting about talking seriously to the prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which, like the sky outside, was scattered with stars.

What with that, and the whispering that still filled the Hall, I felt as though I was sleeping out of doors in a light wind.

Once every hour, a teacher would reappear in the Hall to check that everything was quiet. Around three in the morning, when many students had finally fallen asleep, Professor Dumbledore came in.

I watched him looking around for Percy, who had been prowling between sleeping bags, telling people off for talking. Percy was only a short way away from us, who quickly pretended to be asleep as Dumbledore's footsteps drew nearer.

"Any sign of him, Professor?" asked Percy in a whisper.

"No. All well here?"

"Everything under control, sir."

"Good. There's no point moving them all now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move them back in tomorrow."

"And the Fat Lady, sir?"

"Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She's still very distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mr. Filch restore her."

I heard the door of the Hall creak open again, and more footsteps.

"Headmaster?" It was Snape.

I kept quite still, listening hard. "The whole of the third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there, either."

"What about the Astronomy Tower? Professor Trelawney's room?

The Owlery?"

"All searched..."

"Very well, Severus. I didn't really expect Black to linger."

"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?" asked Snape.

I raised my head very slightly off his arms to free my other ear.

"Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next."

I opened my eyes a fraction and squinted up to where they stood; Dumbledore's back was to me, but I could see Percy's face, rapt with attention, and Snape's profile, which looked angry.

"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before- ah- the start of term?" said Snape, who was barely opening his lips, as though trying to block Percy out of the conversation.

"I do, Severus," said Dumbledore, and there was something like warning in his voice.

"It seems- almost impossible- that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed and let-"

"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it," said Dumbledore, and his tone made it so clear that the subject was closed that Snape didn't reply.

"I must go down to the Dementors," said Dumbledore. "I said I would inform them when our search was complete."

"Didn't they want to help, sir?" said Percy.

"Oh yes," said Dumbledore coldly. "But I'm afraid no Dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I'm Headmaster."

Percy looked slightly abashed. Dumbledore left the Hall, walking quickly and quietly. Snape stood for a moment, watching the Headmaster with an expression of deep resentment on his face, then he too left.

I glanced sideways at the others. They had their eyes open, too, reflecting the starry ceiling.

"What was all that about?" Ron mouthed.

"Are you ok?" Harry mouthed. I nodded.

The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days.

The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder; Hannah Abbot, from Hufflepuff, spent much of their next Herbology class telling anyone who'd listen that Black could turn into a floweringshrub. The Fat Lady's ripped canvas had been taken off the wall and replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogen and his fat grey pony.

Nobody was very happy about this.

Sir Cadogen spent half his time challenging people to duels, and the rest thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords, which he changed at least twice a day.

"He's barking mad," said Seamus angrily to Percy. "Can't we get anyone else?"

"None of the other pictures wanted the job," said Percy. "Frightened of what happened to the Fat Lady. Sir Cadogen was the only one brave enough to volunteer."

Sir Cadogan, however, was the least of Harry's and my worries. We were now being closely watched.

Teachers found excuses to walk along corridors with us and Percy Weasley (acting, Ron suspected, on his mother's orders) was tailing us everywhere like an extremely pompous guard dog.

To cap it all, professor McGonagall summoned Harry and me into her office, with such a sombre expression on her face I thought someone must have died.

"There's no point hiding it from you any longer, Potter," she said, in a very serious voice. "I know this will come as a shock to you, but Sirius Black -"

"I know he's after me," said Harry wearily. "I heard Ron's dad telling his mum. Mr. Weasley works for the Ministry of Magic."

Professor McGonagall seemed very taken aback. She stared at Harry for a moment or two, then said, "I see! Well,in that case, Potter, you'll understand why I don't think it's a good idea for you to be practising Quidditch in the evenings. On the pitch with only your team members, it's very exposed, Potter-"

"We've got our first match on Saturday!" said Harry, outraged. "I've got to train, Professor!"

Professor McGonagall considered him intently. I knew she was deeply interested in the Gryffindor team's prospects. He waited, holding his breath.

"Hmm..." Professor McGonagall stood up and stared out of the window at the Quidditch pitch, just visible through the rain.

"Well... goodness knows, I'd like to see us win the Cup at last... but all the same, Potter... I'd be happier if a teacher were present. I'll ask Madam Hooch to oversee your training sessions."

"Now, miss Black, I have to ask you, have you heard anything of your father? We would appreciate it if you would notify us immediately if you hear something of him."

"I'm sorry professor, but I haven't heard anything of him. And honestly, I don't think I will hear him at all. I haven't seen him since I was one year old and I don't think he would remember me." I said sadly.

"I understand, but just in case, you will tell us?" she asked.

"Yes professor, everything to keep Harry save." I said, giving a side glance at Harry.

The weather worsened steadily as the first Quidditch match drew nearer. Undaunted, the Gryffindor team were training harder than ever under the eye of Madam Hooch.

The day before the match, the winds reached howling point and the rain fell harder than ever. It was so dark inside the corridors and classrooms that extra torches and lanterns were lit. The Slytherin team were looking very smug indeed, and none more so than Malfoy.

"Ah, if only my arm was feeling a bit better!" he sighed, as the gale outside pounded the windows.

"Sorry I'm late, Professor Lupin, I-"

But it wasn't Professor Lupin who looked up at him from the teacher's desk; it was Snape.

"This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down."

But Harry didn't move.

"Where's Professor Lupin?"

"He says he is feeling too ill to teach today," said Snape with a twisted smile. "I believe I told you to sit down?"

But Harry stayed where he was. "What's wrong with him?"

Snape's black eyes glittered. "Nothing life-threatening," he said, looking as though he wished it was.

"Five more points from Gryffindor, and if I have to ask you to sit down again, it will be fifty."

Harry walked slowly to his seat and sat down next to me. Snape looked around at the class.

"As I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far-"

"Please, sir, we've done Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas and grindylows," said Hermione quickly, "and we're just about to start-"

"Be quiet," said Snape coldly. "I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organization."

I glared at him. He had no right.

"He's the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had," said Dean boldly, and there was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the class.

Snape looked more menacing than ever.

"You are easily satisfied. Lupin is hardly over-taxing you- I would expect first-years to be able to deal with Red Caps and grindylows. Today we shall discuss-"

I watched him flick through the text book, to the very back chapter, which he must know we hadn't covered.

"-werewolves," said Snape.

No, I thought , oh no, this isn't good. Ooh I hate this guy!

"But, sir," said Hermione, seemingly unable to restrain herself, "we're not supposed to do werewolves yet, we're due to start hinkypunks-"

"Miss Granger," said Snape, in a voice of deadly calm, "I was under the impression that I was teaching this lesson, not you. And I'm telling you all to turn to page three hundred and ninety-four." He glanced around again. "All of you! Now!"

With many bitter sidelong looks and some sullen muttering, the class opened their books.

"Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" said Snape.

Everyone sat in motionless silence; everyone except Hermione, whose hand, as it often did, had shot straight into the air.

"Anyone?" Snape said, ignoring Hermione. His twisted smile was back. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between-"

"We told you," said Parvati suddenly, "we haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on-"

"Silence!" snarled Snape. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognise a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are..."

He turned to me with a smirk on his face. "Black, please inform the class the differences between a werewolf and a true wolf!"

I glared at him. "I don't know sir, as we have told you already, we aren't there yet!"

"50 points for your cheek, Black" he sneered.

"Please, sir," said Hermione, whose hand was still in the air, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf-"

"That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," said Snape coolly. "Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."

Hermione went very red, put down her hand and stared at the floor with her eyes full of tears.

It was a mark of how much the class loathed Snape that they were all glaring at him, because every one of them had called Hermione a know-it-all at least once, and Ron, who told Hermione she was a know-it-all at least twice a week, said loudly, "You asked us a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told? And what's with the 50 points from Aurora, there was no reason!"

The class knew instantly he'd gone too far. Snape advanced on Ron slowly, and the room held its breath.

"Detention, Weasley," Snape said silkily, his face very close to Ron's. "And if I ever hear you criticize that way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed."

No one made a sound throughout the rest of the lesson. They sat and made notes on werewolves from the textbook, while Snape prowled up and down the rows of desks, examining the work they had been doing with Professor Lupin.

"Very poorly explained... that is incorrect, the Kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia... Professor Lupin gave this eight out of ten? I wouldn't have given it three ..."

When the bell rang at last, Snape held them back.

"You will each write an essay, to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand. Weasley, stay behind, we need to arrange your detention."

Harry, Hermione and I left the room with the rest of the class, who waited until we were all out of earshot, then burst into a furious tirade about Snape.

"Snape's never been like this with any of our other Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, even if he did want the job," Harry said to us. "Why's he got it in for Lupin? D'you think this is all because of the Boggart?"

"I don't know," said Hermione pensively. "But I really hope Professor Lupin gets better soon..."

"He will, trust me." I said.

Ron caught up with them five minutes later, in a towering rage.

"D'you know what that-" (He called Snape something that made Hermione say "Ron!")

"- is making me do? I've got to scrub out the bedpans in the hospital wing. Without magic!"

He was breathing deeply, his fists clenched. "Why couldn't Black have hidden in Snape's office, eh? He could have finished him off for us!"

"Ron, you don't mean that, do you?" I asked with tears in my eyes. "And thank you for sticking up for me."

Ron looked at me. "I'm sorry Aurora, I didn't mean it. And that's what friends are for."

I gave him a watery smile.

I woke up really early the next morning. The storm outside was really bad. I couldn't get back to sleep, so I decided to get up and get ready. Warmly dressed I made my way to the Great Hall. I saw Harry siting at the Gryffindor table.

"Good morning Harry" I said.

"Morning" he replied.

By the time we'd started on toast, the rest of the team had turned up. .

"It's going to be a tough one," said Wood, who wasn't eating anything.

"Stop worrying, Oliver," said Alicia soothingly, "we don't mind a bit of rain."

But it was considerably more than a bit of rain. Such was the popularity of Quidditch that the whole school turned out to watch the match as usual, but they ran down the lawns towards the Quidditch pitch, heads bowed against the ferocious wind, umbrellas being whipped out of their hands as they went.

I sat together with Hermione and Ron, huddled together so we would stay out the rain as much as possible.

The wind was so strong that the team staggered sideways as they walked out onto the pitch. The crowd was cheering but I don't think they could hear it over the fresh rolls of thunder.

The Hufflepuffs were approaching from the opposite side of the pitch, wearing canary-yellow robes. The captains walked up to each other and shook hands.

Madam Hooch put her whistle to her lips and gave it a blast that sounded shrill and distant- they were off.

Within five minutes the team was soaked to their skin and frozen. I couldn't hear the commentary over the wind. The crowd was hidden beneath a sea of cloaks and battered umbrellas. Twice Harry came very close to being unseated by a Bludger. I was fearing for his life.

I lost track of time. It was getting harder and harder to see anything. The sky was getting darker, as though night had decided to come early. I couldn't see anymore who was who.

With the first flash of lightning came the sound of Madame Hooch's whistle.

"I don't think Harry is going to see much in this rain." Ron said.

"Wait here, I've got an idea." I ran as quickly as I could to the Gryffindor team. When I got closer I could hear Harry say.

"I've got no chance with these on," Harry said exasperatedly, waving his glasses.

"I've had an idea, Harry! Give me your glasses, quick!"

He handed them to me and, as the team watched in amazement, I tapped them with my wand and said, "Impervius!"

"There!" I said, handing them back to Harry. "They'll repel water!"

Wood looked as though he could have kissed me.

"Brilliant!" he called hoarsely after me, as I disappeared into the crowd. "OK, team, let's go for it!"

"No!" Ron cried.

The team went back to the game and they played better than before the time-out. I could see that Harry had it much easier now he could see. Suddenly a yellow flyer shot away across the field and then a red one was following him closely. Must be Harry and the seeker from Hufflepuffs.

But something odd was happening. An eerie silence was falling across the stadium. The wind, though as strong as ever, was forgetting to roar. It was as though someone had turned off the sound, as though I had suddenly gone deaf- what was going on? And then a horribly familiar wave of cold swept over me, inside me, just as I became aware of something moving on the pitch below...

A least a hundred Dementors, their hidden faces pointing up at Harry, were standing below.

It was as though freezing water was rising in my chest, cutting at my insides.

And then I heard it again... someone was screaming, screaming inside my head... a woman ...

The woman was screaming, and I knew no more.

"Lucky the ground was so soft."

"I thought he was dead for sure."

"But he didn't even break his glasses."

I could hear the voices whispering, but they made no sense whatsoever. I didn't have a clue where I was, or how I'd got there, or what I'd been doing before I got there.

"That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life."

Scariest... the scariest thing... hooded black figures... cold... screaming...

My eyes snapped open. I was lying in the hospital wing. The Gryffindor Quidditch team, spattered with mud from head to foot, was gathered round Harry's bed. Ron and Hermione were also there, round my bed,looking as though they'd just climbed out of a swimming pool.

"Harry!" said Fred, who looked extremely white underneath the mud. "How're you feeling?"

"Aurora, you're awake" Hermione said relieved.

"What happened?" we said, sitting up so suddenly they all gasped.

"You fell off," said Fred. "Must've been- what- fifty feet?"

"You fainted and we couldn't awake you" Hermione said to me.

"We thought you'd died," said Alicia, who was shaking.

Hermione made a small, squeaky noise. Her eyes were extremely bloodshot.

"But the match," said Harry. "What happened? Are we having a replay?"

No one said anything.

"We didn't - lose?"

"Diggory got the Snitch," said George. "Just after you fell. He didn't realize what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a re-match. But they won fair and square... even Wood admits it."

"Where is Wood?" said Harry, suddenly realizing he wasn't there.

"Still in the showers," said Fred. "We think he's trying to drown himself."

Harry put his face to his knees, his hands gripping his hair. Fred grabbed his shoulder and shook it roughly.

"C'mon, Harry, you've never missed the Snitch before."

"There had to be one time you didn't get it," said George.

"It's not over yet," said Fred. "We lost by a hundred points, right? So if Hufflepuff lose to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin..."

"Hufflepuff'll have to lose by at least two hundred points," said George.

"But if they beat Ravenclaw..."

"No way, Ravenclaw are too good. But if Slytherin lose against Hufflepuff..."

"It all depends on the points- a margin of a hundred either way-"

Harry lay there, not saying a word.

After ten minutes or so, Madam Pomfrey came over to tell the team to leave us in peace.

"We'll come and see you later," Fred told him. "Don't beat yourself up, Harry, you're still the greatest Seeker we've ever had. And we will visit you to, my fair lady."

That had become my nickname, fair lady. I didn't hate it, I actually liked it.

The team trooped out, trailing mud behind them. Madam Pomfrey shut the door behind them, looking disapproving. Ron and Hermione moved nearer to Harry's bed. I climbed out of my bed and went to sit on his.

"Dumbledore was really angry," Hermione said in a quaking voice. "I've never seen him like that before. He ran onto the pitch as you fell, waved his wand, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the Dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium straight away... he was furious they'd come into the grounds, we heard him-"

"Then he magicked you onto a stretcher," said Ron. "And walked up to school with you floating on it. Everyone thought you were... And then we yelled for a professor, because we still could wake you up, Aurora, and you to were brought here on a stretcher. It was so weird."

He voice faded away, but I hardly noticed. I was thinking about what the Dementors had done to me... about the screaming voice, my mam.

I looked up and saw Ron and Hermione looking at Harry so anxiously.

"What's wrong with you two?" I asked.

"Nothing," Ron said quickly.

"Did someone get my Nimbus?" Harry asked.

Ron and Hermione quickly looked at each other.

"Well... when you fell off, it got blown away," said Hermione hesitantly.

"And?"

"And it hit- it hit - oh, Harry - it hit the Whomping Willow."

My insides lurched. The Whomping Willow was a very violent tree which stood alone in the middle of the grounds.

"And?" he said, dreading the answer.

"Well, you know the Whomping Willow," said Ron. "It- it doesn't like being hit."

"Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you came round," said Hermione in a very small voice.

Slowly, she reached for a bag at her feet, turned it upside-down and tipped a dozen bits of splintered wood and twigs onto the bed, the only remains of Harry's broomstick.

"I'm so sorry Harry," I said and I moved closer to him with my arms opened. If he want, he could get a hug from me. He looked at me and gave in. I embraced him softly.

"Everything is going to be ok, " I whispered in his ear.

We sat there for a long time. Harry in my arms and Hermione and Ron trying to say al kind of things to make him feel better.

**A/N: sorry it took so long to post another chapter. **

**I'm going to tell you now, I'm having exams the rest of the month and I won't be able to post another chapter every day, so don't hate me if it will take some time.**

**Now, you all know what to do! Review and make me Happy **


	6. Secrets coming out

**A/N: I don't own anything**

**Chapter 6: Secrets coming out**

Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping Harry in the hospital wing for the rest of the weekend, but I was released the next day. Harry didn't argue or complain, but he wouldn't let her throw away the shattered remnants of his Nimbus Two Thousand.

He had a stream of visitors, all intent on cheering him up.

Hagrid sent him a bunch of earwiggy flowers and Ginny Weasley, blushing furiously, turned up with a "get well" card she had made herself, which sang shrilly unless Harry kept it shut under his bowl of fruit.

The Gryffindor team visited again on Sunday morning, this time accompanied by Wood, who told Harry, in a hollow, dead sort of voice, that he didn't blame Harry in the slightest.

Ron, Hermione and me only left Harry's bedside at night. But nothing anyone said or did could make Harry feel any better. I was really wondering what was wrong with him, I mean, nobody stays upset about a broom, right. It's just a broom, it's replaceable. But you never hear me say that in front of Harry.

I have my own problems to. Those blasted Dementors, their driving me insane. For once in my life I'm more afraid of something that isn't my father of the dead of someone I love.

Everyone said the Dementors were horrible, but no one else (except Harry) collapsed every time they went near one...

No one else (except Harry) heard echoes in their head of their dying mother.

When the Dementors approached me, he heard the last moments of my mother's life, her attempts to kill herself, her cries, her words of blame, screaming for my father, screaming for justice...

It was a relief that Harry returned on Monday to the noise and bustle of the main school, where he was forced to think about other things, even if he had to endure Draco Malfoy's taunting.

Malfoy was almost beside himself with glee at Gryffindor's defeat.

He had finally taken off his bandages, and celebrated having the full use of both arms again by doing spirited imitations of Harry falling off his broom.

Malfoy spent much of their next Potions class doing Dementor imitations across the dungeon; Ron finally cracked, flinging a large, slippery crocodile heart at Malfoy, which hit him in the face and caused Snape to take fifty points from Gryffindor.

"If Snape's taking Defense Against the Dark Arts again, I'm going off sick," said Ron, as they headed towards Lupin's classroom after lunch.

"Me to" I said, "Check who's in there, Hermione."

Hermione peered round the classroom door.

"It's OK!"

Professor Lupin was back at work.

It certainly looked as though he had been ill. His old robes were hanging more loosely on him, never mind the countless times I tried to give him new clothes and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes; nevertheless, he smiled at the class as they took their seats, and they burst at once into an explosion about Snape's behaviour while Lupin had been ill.

"It's not fair, he was only filling in, why should he set us homework?"

"We don't know anything about werewolves -"

"-two rolls of parchment!"

"Did you tell Professor Snape we haven't covered them yet?" Lupin asked, frowning slightly.

The babble broke out again.

"Yes, but he said we were really behind-"

"-he wouldn't listen-"

"-two rolls of parchment!"

Professor Lupin smiled at the look of indignation on every face.

"Don't worry. I'll speak to Professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay."

"Oh no," said Hermione, looking very disappointed. "I've already finished it!"

"Me to" but I didn't looked disappointed, I looked more relieved.

They had a very enjoyable lesson. Professor Lupin had brought along a glass box containing a Hinkypunk, a little one-legged creature who seemed as though he was made out of whisps of smoke, rather frail and harmless-looking.

"Lures travellers into bogs," said Professor Lupin, as they took notes. "You notice the lantern dangling from his hands? Hops ahead- people follow the light- then-"

The Hinkypunk made a horrible squelching noise against the glass.

When the bell rang, everyone gathered up their things and headed for the door, Harry and me amongst them, but- "Wait a moment, Aurora, Harry," Lupin called, "I'd like a word."

Harry and I doubled back and watched Professor Lupin covering the Hinkypunk's box with a cloth.

"I heard about the match," said Lupin, turning back to his desk and starting to pile books into his briefcase, "and I'm sorry about your broomstick. Is there any chance of fixing it?"

"No," said Harry. "The tree smashed it to bits."

Lupin sighed.

"They planted the Whomping Willow the same year that I arrived at Hogwarts. People used to play a game, trying to get near enough to touch the trunk. In the end, a boy called Davey Gudgeon nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden to go near it. No broomstick would have a chance."

"Did you hear about the Dementors, too?" said Harry with difficulty.

Lupin looked at him quickly.

"Yes, I did. I don't think any of us have seen Professor Dumbledore that angry. They have been growing restless for some time... furious at his refusal to let them inside the grounds... I suppose they were the reason you fell?"

"Yes," said Harry.

And the reason you fainted?" he asked me.

"Yes," I said. "Why? Why do they affect Harry and me like that? I know it's because of our past and what happened in them, but still …"

A ray of wintry sunlight fell across the classroom, illuminating uncle Moony's grey hairs and the lines on his young face.

"Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can't see them. Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself- soulless and evil. You'll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. And the worst that has happened to you, Harry, is enough to make anyone fall off their broom. You have nothing to feel ashamed of."

"When they get near me-" Harry stared at uncle Moony's desk, his throat tight, "I can hear Voldemort murdering my mum."

Lupin made a sudden motion with his arm as though he had made to grip Harry's shoulder, but thought better of it. I looked at him with sadness. Nobody should here that. There was a moment's silence; then-

"Why did they have to come to the match?" said Harry bitterly.

"Because of the happiness and excitement," I said.

"They're getting hungry," said uncle Moony coolly, shutting his briefcase with a snap. "Dumbledore won't let them into the school, so their supply of human prey has dried up ... I don't think they could resist the large crowd around the Quidditch pitch. All the excitement... emotions running high... it was their idea of a feast."

"Azkaban must be terrible," Harry muttered. Lupin nodded grimly.

"The fortress is set on a tiny island, way out to sea, but they don't need walls and water to keep the prisoners in, not when they're all trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheerful thought. Most of them go mad within weeks." I told him.

"But your father escaped from them," Harry said slowly. "He got away..."

Lupin's briefcase slipped from the desk; he had to stoop quickly to catch it.

"Yes," I said, "He must have found a way to fight them. I wouldn't have believed it possible... Dementors are supposed to drain a wizard of his powers if he is left with them too long..."

"You made that Dementor on the train back off," said Harry suddenly to uncle Moony.

"There are- certain defenses one can use," said uncle Moony. "But there was only one Dementor on the train. The more there are, the more difficult it becomes to resist."

"What defenses?" said Harry at once. "Can you teach me?"

"I don't pretend to be an expert at fighting Dementors, Harry- quite the contrary..."

"But if the Dementors come to another Quidditch match, I need to be able to fight them-**"**

Uncle Moony looked into Harry's determined face, hesitated, then said, "Well... all right. I'll try and help. But it'll have to wait until the next term, I'm afraid. I have a lot to do before the holidays. I chose a very inconvenient time to fall ill."

"You really going to teach us the Patronus Charm?" I asked.

Uncle Moony and Harry looked at me like I was crazy.

"What? I'm being affected by the Dementors to, it's only fair that you're going to teach me to."

"All right then, you to." Uncle Moony said.

What with the promise of Anti-Dementor lessons from uncle Moony, the thought that I might never have to hear my mother's death again, my mood took a definite upturn.

Two weeks before the end of term, the sky lightened suddenly to a dazzling, opaline white and the muddy grounds were revealed one morning covered in glittering frost. Inside the castle, there was a buzz of Christmas in the air. Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, had already decorated his classroom with shimmering lights that turned out to be real, fluttering fairies.

The students were all happily discussing their plans for the holidays. Both Ron and Hermione had decided to remain at Hogwarts, and though Ron said it was because he couldn't stand two weeks with Percy, and Hermione insisted she needed to use the library, I wasn't fooled; they were doing it to keep Harry and me company, and we were very grateful.

To everyone's delight except Harry's and mine, there was to be another Hogsmeade trip on the very last weekend of term.

"We can do all our Christmas shopping there!" said Hermione. "Mum and Dad would really love those Toothflossing Stringmints from Honeydukes!"

On the Saturday morning of the Hogsmeade trip, Harry and I bid goodbye to Ron and Hermione, who were wrapped in cloaks and scarves, then turned up the marble staircase alone, and headed back towards Gryffindor Tower. Snow had started to fall outside the windows, and the castle was very still and quiet.

"Psst- Harry, Fair Lady!"

Wr turned, halfway along the third-floor corridor, to see Fred and George peering out at us from behind a statue of a humpbacked, one-eyed witch.

"What are you doing?" said Harry curiously. "How come you're not going to Hogsmeade?"

"We've come to give you a bit of festive cheer before we go," said Fred, with a mysterious wink. "Come in here..."

He nodded towards an empty classroom to the left of the one-eyed statue. Harry followed Fred and George inside. George closed the door quietly and then turned, beaming, to look at us.

"Early Christmas present for you, Harry and Fair Lady," he said.

"Is this a plan to get into my knickers, you can forget it! I have a very loud voice." I looked at them with stern eyes.

Their mouths fell open. It was hilarious to see. I began to laugh.

"You should have seen your faces, it was hilarious!" I said laughing.

The boys started to laugh to.

"Very funny, Fair Lady, but no, we have something different in mind." Fred said.

Fred pulled something from inside his cloak with a flourish and laid it on one of the desks. It was a large, square, very worn piece of parchment with nothing written on it.

Harry, suspecting one of Fred and George's jokes, stared at it. I, on the other hand, was looking at it closely.

"What's that supposed to be?" Harry asked.

"This, Harry, is the secret of our success," said George, patting the parchment fondly.

"It's a wrench, giving it to you," said Fred, "but we decided last night, your need's greater than ours."

"Anyway, we know it off by heart," said George, "We bequeath it to you. We don't really need it anymore."

"And what do I need with a bit of old parchment?" said Harry.

"A bit of old parchment!" said Fred, closing his eyes with a grimace as though Harry had mortally offended him. "Explain, George."

"Well... when we were in our first year, Harry- young, carefree, and innocent-"

Harry and I snorted. I doubted whether Fred and George had ever been innocent.

"-well, more innocent than we are now- we got into a spot of bother with Filch."

"We let off a dungbomb in the corridor and it upset him for some reason-"

"So he hauled us off to his office and started threatening us with the usual-"

"-detention-"

"-disembowelment-"

"- and we couldn't help noticing a drawer in one of his filing cabinets marked Confiscated and Highly Dangerous."

"Don't tell me-" said Harry, starting to grin. I was already grinning, it was the first time I heard them speak like that.

"Well, what would you've done?" said Fred. "George caused a diversion by dropping another Dungbomb, I whipped the drawer open and grabbed- this."

"It's not as bad as it sounds, you know," said George. "We don't reckon Filch ever found out how to work it. He probably suspected what it was, though, or he wouldn't have confiscated it."

"And you know how to work it?"

"Oh yes," said Fred. "This little beauty's taught us more than all the teachers in this school."

"You're winding me up," said Harry, looking at the old bit of ragged parchment.

"Oh, their not," I said with a grin on my face.

I took out my wand, touched the parchment lightly and said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

And at once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider's web from the point that my wand had touched. They joined each other, they criss-crossed, they fanned into every corner of the parchment; then words began to blossom across the top, great, curly green words, that proclaimed:

Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

are proud to present

THE MARAUDER'S MAP

It was a map showing every detail of the Hogwarts castle and grounds. But the truly remarkable thing was the tiny ink dots moving around it, each labelled with a name in minuscule writing.

"How did you know the password?" the twins asked me.

"You have your secrets, I have mine!" I said smirking.

Astounded, Harry bent over it. A labelled dot in the top left showed that Professor Dumbledore was pacing his study; the caretaker's cat, Mrs. Norris, was prowling the second floor, and Peeves the Poltergeist was currently bouncing around the trophy room. And as mine eyes travelled up and down the familiar corridors, I noticed something else. The map showed a set of passages I had never entered. And many of them seemed to lead-

"Right into Hogsmeade," said Fred, tracing one of them with his finger. "There are seven in all. Now, Filch knows about these four-" he pointed them out, "-but we're sure we're the only ones who know about these. Don't bother with the one behind the mirror on the fourth floor. We used it until last winter, but it's caved in- completely blocked. And we don't reckon anyone's ever used this one, because the Whomping Willow's planted right over the entrance. But this one here, this one leads right into the cellar of Honeydukes. We've used it loads of times. And you might've noticed, the entrance is right outside this room, through that one-eyed old crone's hump."

"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs," sighed George, patting the head of the map. "We owe them so much."

"Noble men, working tirelessly to help a new generation of law-breakers," said Fred solemnly.

"Right," said George briskly, "don't forget to wipe it after you've used it-"

"- or anyone can read it," said Fred warningly.

"Just tap it and say, 'Mischief Managed!' And it'll go blank." I said.

The twins looked at me and were beginning to open their mouths but I raised an eyebrow. They quickly closed it.

"So, young Harry and Fair Lady," said Fred, in an uncanny impersonation of Percy, "mind you watch yourself."

"See you in Honeydukes," said George, winking.

They left the room, both smirking in a satisfied sort of way.

I stood there, gazing at the miraculous map. I watched the tiny ink Mrs. Norris turn and pause to sniff at something on the floor. If Filch really didn't know... we wouldn't have to pass the Dementors at all...

Harry traced the secret passage to Honeydukes with his finger. He looked at me with questioning eye. He must have seen something in my eyes because quite suddenly, as though following orders, he rolled up the map, stuffed it inside his robes, and hurried to the door of the classroom. He opened it a couple of inches. There was no one outside. Very carefully, he edged out of the room and slipped behind the statue of the one-eyed witch. I followed him very closely.

"What do we have to do now?" he asked.

He pulled out the map again and we saw, to our astonishment, that two new figures had appeared upon it, labelled "Harry Potter" and "Aurora Black". These figures were standing exactly where the real Harry and me were standing, about halfway down the third-floor corridor.

Harry little ink self appeared to be tapping the witch with his miniature wand. Harry quickly took out his real wand and tapped the statue. Nothing happened. He looked back at the map. The tiniest speech bubble had appeared next to his figure. The word inside said "Dissendium".

"Dissendium!" Harry whispered, tapping the stone witch again.

At once, that statue's hump opened wide enough to admit a fairly thin person.

Harry glanced quickly up and down that corridor, then tucked the map away again, hoisted himself into the hole headfirst, and pushed himself forwards. I followed him after checking myself if everything was clear.

I slid a considerable way down what felt like a stone slide, then landed on cold, damp earth. I stood up, looking around. It was pitch dark. I help up my wand, muttered, "Lumos!" and saw that I was in a very narrow, low, earthy passageway. I saw Harry standing just a few steps from me. He looked at me and said "Lumos". He raised the map, tapped it with the tip of his wand and muttered, "Mischief managed!" The map went blank at once.

He folded it carefully, tucked inside his robes and looked at me. I nodded. Then, heart beating fast, both excited and apprehensive, we set off. The passage twisted and turned, more like the burrow of a giant rabbit than anything else. We hurried along it, stumbling now and then on the uneven floor, holding our wands out in front of us.

It took ages, but I had the thought of Honeydukes to sustain me. After what felt like an hour, the passage began to rise. Panting, Harry sped up, his face hot, his feet very cold. I sped up to, but he was faster than me.

Fifteen minutes later, i came to the foot of some worn stone steps which rose out of sight above me. Harry stood there waiting for me. Careful not to make any noise, Harry began to climb. A hundred steps, two hundred steps, I lost count as I climbed, watching my feet... then, without warning, Harry head hit something hard.

It seemed to be a trapdoor. Harry stood there, massaging the top of his head, listening. I couldn't hear any sounds above him. Very slowly, he pushed the trapdoor open and peered over the edge.

Harry climbed out of the trapdoor and he helped me and replaced it- it blended so well with the dusty floor that it was impossible to tell it was there. We were in a cellar which was full of wooden crates and boxes.

We crept slowly toward the wooden staircase that led upstairs. Now I could definitely hear voices, not to mention the tinkle of a bell and the opening and shutting of a door. Wondering what we ought to do, we suddenly heard a door open much closer at hand; somebody was about to come downstairs.

"And get another box of Jelly Slugs, dear, they've nearly cleaned us out-" said a woman's voice.

A pair of feet were coming down the staircase. Harry leapt behind an enormous crate grabbing me with him and we waited for the footsteps to pass. We heard the man shifting boxes against the wall opposite.

Quickly and silently, Harry dodged out from our hiding place and climbed the stairs, I had no choice but to follow him; looking back, I saw an enormous backside and a shiny bald head buried in a box.

We reached the door at the top of the stairs, slipped through it, and found ourself behind the counter of Honeydukes- we ducked, crept sideways and then straightened up.

Honeydukes was so crowded with Hogwarts students that no one looked twice at us. We edged amongst them, looking around. I had a smile on my face and looking at Harry, he had one to.

There were shelves upon shelves of the most succulent-looking sweets imaginable. Creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice, fat, honey-coloured toffees; hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat rows; there was a large barrel ofEvery Flavour Beans, and another of Fizzing Whizzbees, the levitating sherbet balls that Ron had mentioned; along yet another wall were "Special Effects" sweets: Droobles Best Blowing Gum (which filled the room with bluebell-coloured bubbles that refused to pop for days), the strange, splintery Toothflossing Stringmints, tiny black Pepper Imps ("breathe fire for your friends!"), peppermint creams shaped like toads ("hop realistically in the stomach!"), fragile sugar-spun quills and exploding bonbons.

.

We squeezed ourself through a crowd of sixth-years and saw a sign hanging in the furthest corner of the shop ("Unusual Tastes"). Ron and Hermione were standing underneath it, examining a tray of blood-flavoured lollipops. We sneaked up behind them.

"Urgh, no, neither won't want one of those, they're for vampires, I expect," Hermione was saying.

"How about these?" said Ron, shoving a jar of Cockroach Cluster under Hermione's nose.

"Definitely not," Harry and I said together.

Ron nearly dropped the jar.

"Harry, Aurora!" squealed Hermione. "What are you doing here? How- how did you-?"

"Wow!" said Ron, looking very impressed. "You've learnt how to Apparate!"

"'Course we haven't," said Harry. He dropped his voice so that none of the sixth-years could hear him and told them all about the Marauder's Map.

"How come Fred and George didn't give it to me!" said Ron, outraged. "I'm their brother!"

"But Harry isn't going to keep it!" said Hermione, as though the idea was ludicrous. "He's going to hand it in to Professor McGonagall, aren't you, Harry?"

"No, I'm not!" said Harry.

"Are you mad?" said Ron, goggling at Hermione. "Hand something in that good?"

"If I hand it in, I'll have to say where I got it! Filch would know Fred and George nicked it!"

"But what about Sirius Black?" Hermione hissed. "He could be using one of those passages on that map to get into the castle! The teachers have got to know!"

I looked at the ground, I hadn't thought so far. But still, he would get in anyway. He knew a lot to.

"He can't be getting in through a passage," I said quickly. "There are seven secret tunnels on the map, right? Fred and George reckon Filch already knows about four of them. And the other three- one of them's caved in, so no one can get through it. One of them's got the Whomping Willow planted over the entrance, so you can't get out of it. And the one I just came through- well- it's really hard to see the entrance to it down in the cellar- so unless he knew it was there-"

Ron, however, cleared his throat significantly, and pointed to a notice pasted on the inside of the sweetshop door.

BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

Customers are reminded that until further notice, Dementors will be patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade every night after sundown. This measure has been put in place for the safety of Hogsmeade residents and will be lifted upon the recapture of Sirius Black. It is therefore advisable that you complete your shopping well before nightfall.

Merry Christmas!

"See?" said Ron quietly. "I'd like to see Black try and break into Honeydukes with Dementors swarming all over the village. Anyway, Hermione, the Honeydukes owners would hear a break-in, wouldn't they? They live over the shop!"

"Yes, but- but-" Hermione seemed to be struggling to find another problem. "Look, Harry and Aurora still shouldn't be coming into Hogsmeade, they haven't got a signed form! If anyone finds out, they'll be in so much trouble! And it's not nightfall yet- what if Sirius Black turns up today? Now?"

"He'd have a job spotting Harry in this," said Ron, nodding through the mullioned windows at the thick, swirling snow.

"Come on, Hermione, it's Christmas, Harry and Aurora deserve a break."

Hermione bit her lip, looking extremely worried.

"Are you going to report me?" Harry asked her, grinning.

"Oh- of course not- but honestly, Harry-"

"Seen the Fizzing Whizzbees, Harry?" said Ron, grabbing him and leading him over to the barrel. "And the Jelly Slugs? And the Acid Pops? Fred gave me one of those once when I was seven- it burnt a hole right through my tongue. I remember Mum walloping him with her broomstick." Ron stared broodingly into the Acid Pop box. "Reckon Fred'd take a bit of Cockroach Cluster if I told him they were peanuts?"

I looked at Hermione, pleading with my eyes. She rolled her eyes and then smiled. I grabbed her arm and we joined the boys.

When Ron and Hermione had paid for all their sweets, the four of them left Honeydukes for the blizzard outside.

Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees.

Harry and I shivered; unlike the other two, we didn't have our cloak.

We headed up the street, heads bowed against the wind, Ron and Hermione shouting through their scarves.

"That's the Post office-"

"Zonko's is up there-"

"We could go up to the Shrieking Shack-"

"Tell you what," said Ron, his teeth chattering, "shall we go for Butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks?"

I was more than willing; the wind was fierce and my hands were freezing, so we crossed the road, and in a few minutes were entering the tiny inn.

It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm and smoky. A curvy sort of woman was serving a bunch of rowdy warlocks up at the bar.

"That's Madam Rosmerta," said Ron. "I'll get the drinks, shall I?" he added, going slightly red.

We made our way to the back of the room, where there was a small, vacant table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree which stood next to the fireplace. Ron came back five minutes later, carrying four foaming tanks of hot Butterbeer.

"Happy Christmas!" he said happily, raising his tankard.

I drank deeply. It was the most delicious thing I'd ever tasted and seemed to heat every bit of me from the inside.

A sudden breeze ruffled my hair. The door of the Three Broomsticks had opened again. I looked over the rim of my tankard and choked. I could hear Harry doing the same thing.

Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pub in a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and pinstriped cloak: Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic.

In an instant, Ron had placed his hand on Harry's head and Hermione had placed her hand on my head and forced us off our stool and under the table.

Dripping with Butterbeer and crouching out of sight, I clutched his empty tankard and watched the teachers' and Fudge's feet move towards the bar, pause, then turn and walk right towards us.

Somewhere above me, Hermione whispered, "Mobiliarbus!"

The Christmas tree beside their table rose a few inches off the ground, drifted sideways and landed with a soft thump right in front of our table, hiding us from view. Staring through the dense lower branches, I saw four sets of chair legs move back from the table right beside theirs, then heard the grunts and sighs of the teachers and Minister as they sat down.

Next he saw another pair of feet, wearing sparkly turquoise high heels, and heard a woman's voice.

"A small Gillywater-"

"Mine," said Professor McGonagall voice.

"Four pints of mulled mead-"

"Ta, Rosmerta," said Hagrid.

"A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella-"

"Mmm!" said Professor Flitwick, smacking his lips.

"So you'll be the red currant rum, Minister."

"Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear," said Fudge's voice. "Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come and join us..."

"Well, thank you very much, Minister."

I watched the glittering heels march away and back again, my heart pounding uncomfortably in my throat. Why hadn't it occurred to me that this was the last weekend of term for the teachers, too? And how long were they going to sit there? We needed time to sneak back into Honeydukes if we wanted to return to school tonight... Hermione's leg gave a nervous twitch next to me.

"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" came Madam Rosmerta's voice.

I saw the lower part of Fudge's thick body twist in his chair as though he was checking for eavesdroppers, then he said in a quiet voice, "What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Hallowe'en?"

"I did hear a rumour," admitted Madam Rosmerta.

"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" said Professor McGonagall exasperatedly.

"Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"I'm sure of it," said Fudge shortly.

"You know that the Dementors have searched my pub twice?" said Madam Rosmerta, a slight edge to her voice. "Scared all my customers away... it's very bad for business, Minister."

"Rosmerta, m'dear, I don't like them any more than you do," said Fudge uncomfortably. "Necessary precaution... unfortunate, but there you are... I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against Dumbledore- he won't let them inside the castle grounds."

"I should think not," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?"

"Hear, hear!" squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick, whose feet were dangling a foot from the ground.

"All the same," demurred Fudge, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse... we all know what Black's capable of..."

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," said Madam Rosmerta thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought... I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."

"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," said Fudge gruffly. "The worst he did isn't widely known."

"The worst?" said Madam Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity. "Worse than murdering all those people, you mean?"

"I certainly do," said Fudge.

"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"

"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," murmured Professor McGonagall. "Do you remember who his best friend was?"

"Naturally," said Madam Rosmerta, with a small laugh. "Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here- ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"

Harry and I dropped our tankard with a clunk. Ron kicked Harry.

"Precisely," said Professor McGonagall. "Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course- exceptionally bright, in fact- but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers-"

"I dunno," chuckled Hagrid. "Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run fer their money."

"You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers!" chimed in Professor Flitwick. "Inseparable!"

"Of course they were," said Fudge. "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. Then they named him godfather to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him."

"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"Worse even than that, m'dear..." Fudge dropped his voice and proceeded in a sort of low rumble. "Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm."

"How does that work?" said Madam Rosmerta, breathless with interest. Professor Flitwick cleared his throat.

"An immensely complex spell," he said squeakily, "involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find- unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper choses to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting-room window!"

"So Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"Naturally," said Professor McGonagall. "James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather then tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself... and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself."

"He suspected Black?" gasped Madam Rosmerta.

"He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements," said Professor McGonagall darkly.

"Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."

"But James Potter insisted on using Black?"

"He did," said Fudge heavily.

"And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed-"

"Black betrayed them?" breathed Madam Rosmerta.

"Black betrayed them."

"He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seemed to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colours as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it-"

"Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!" Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet.

"Shh!" said Professor McGonagall.

"I met him!" growled Hagrid. "I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry from Lily an' James's house after they was killed! Jus' got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an' his parents dead... an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred to me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily an' James's he'd jus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!" Hagrid roared.

"Hagrid please!" said Professor McGonagall. "Keep your voice down!"

"How was I ter know he wasn' upset abou' Lily an' James? It was You-Know-Who he cared abou'! An' then he says, 'Give Harry ter me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him-' Ha! But I'd had me orders from Dumbledore, an' I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harry was ter go ter his aunt an' uncle's. Black argued, but in the end he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Harry there.'I won't need it anymore,' he says. "I shoulda known there was somethin' fishy goin' on then. He loved that motorbike, what was he givin' it ter me for? Why wouldn' he need it anymore? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace. Dumbledore knew he'd bin the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Black knew he was goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a matter o' hours before the Ministry was after him. But what if I'd given Harry to him, eh? I bet he'd've pitched him off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bes' friend's son! But when a wizard goes over ter the Dark Side, there's nothin' and no one that matters to 'em any more..."

A long silence followed Hagrid's story. Then Madam Rosmerta said with some satisfaction, "But he didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him the next day!"

"Alas, if only we had," said Fudge bitterly. "It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew- another of the Potters' friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself."

"Pettigrew... that little fat boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?" said Madam Rosmerta.

"Hero-worshipped Black and Potter," said Professor McGonagall. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I- how I regret that now..." She sounded as though she had a sudden head cold.

"There, now, Minerva," said Fudge kindly. "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eye-witnesses- Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later- told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing. 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you!' And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens..."

Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, "Stupid boy... foolish boy... he was always hopeless at duelling... should have left it to the Ministry..."

"I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands- I'd've ripped him limb- from- limb," Hagrid growled.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid," said Fudge sharply. "Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I- I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him... a heap of blood-stained robes and a few- a few fragments-"

Fudge's voice stopped abruptly. There was the sound of five noses being blown.

"Well, there you have it Rosmerta," said Fudge thickly. "Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol and Pettigrew received the order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black's been in Azkaban ever since."

Madam Rosmerta let out a long sigh.

"Is it true he's mad, Minister?"

"I wish I could say that he was," said Fudge slowly. "I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him for a while. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was in the action of a cornered and desperate man- cruel... pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark, there's no sense in them... but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored- asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crosswords. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the Dementors seemed to be having on him- and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside his door, day and night."

"But what do you think he's broken out to do?" said Madam Rosmerta. "Good gracious, Minister, he isn't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?"

"I daresay that is his- er- eventual plan," said Fudge evasively. But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing... but give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly he'll rise again..."

There was a small chink of glass on wood. Someone had set down their glass.

"You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the Headmaster, we'd better head back up to the castle," said Professor McGonagall.

One by one, the pairs of feet in front of me took the weight of their owners once more; hems of cloaks swung into sight and Madam Rosmerta's glittering heels disappeared behind the bar. The door of the Three Broomsticks opened again, there was another flurry of snow, and the teachers disappeared.

"Harry? Aurora?"

Ron and Hermione's faces appeared under the table. They were both staring at him, lost for words.

Tears were running down my faces. My father was really a murderer.

**A/N: Another chapter finished. It's better than studying. **

** Please be so kind and review. You know you want to!**


	7. Christmas

**A/N: I don't own anything**

**Chapter 7: Christmas**

I didn't have a very clear idea of how I had managed to get back into the Honeydukes cellar, through the tunnel, and into the castle once more. All I knew was that the return trip seemed to take no time at all, and that I hardly noticed what I was doing, because my head was still pounding with the conversation I had just heard. Harry was beside me the whole time but he didn't say anything, he didn't looked at me. After what we just heard, I can't blame if he doesn't want to be friends anymore. Who would, with the daughter of a murderer, especially the murderer of your parents.

Why had nobody ever told me? Dumbledore, Hagrid, uncle Moony, Cornelius Fudge… why hadn't anyone ever mentioned the fact that Harry's parents had died because their best friend had betrayed them? Their best friend, my father.

Ron and Hermione watched Harry and me nervously all through dinner, not daring to talk about what they'd overheard, because Percy was sitting close by us. When we went upstairs to the crowded common room, it was to find Fred and George had set off half a dozen Dungbombs in a fit of end-of-term high spirits.

I, who didn't want Fred and George asking me whether we'd reached Hogsmeade or not, sneaked quietly up to the empty dormitory and headed straight for my bedside cabinet. I pushed my books aside and quickly found what I was looking for —a photograph uncle Moony had given me a few years ago. I sat down on my bed, drew the hangings around me, and sat there, staring at the picture.

The picture was of my parents' wedding day. There was my father waving up at me, grinning. There was my mother, alight with happiness, arm in arm with my dad, looking at him like he was a God. And there… that must be him. Their best man… I had never given him a thought before. He wasn't there before, but I think knowing the truth now, made it impossible for him to stay away.

If I hadn't known Harry, and all the reaction '_you look like your dad' _, I would never have guessed it was Potter in this old photograph. His face handsome, full of laughter. He looked really like Harry. Had my father already been working for Voldemort when this picture had been taken? Was he already planning the deaths of the people after him? Did he realize he was facing twelve years in Azkaban, twelve years that would make him unrecognizable?

But the Dementors don't affect him, I thought, staring into the handsome, laughing face. He doesn't have to hear my Mum screaming if they get too close —

I put the photo back in my bedside cabinet, took off my robe, put my hair in a braid and got into bed, making sure the hangings were hiding me from view.

The dormitory door opened.

"Aurora?" said Hermione's voice uncertainly.

But I lay still, pretending to be asleep. I heard Hermione leave again, and rolled over on my back, my eyes wide open.

"Aurora, you — you look terrible."

I hadn't gotten to sleep until daybreak. I had awoken to find the dormitory deserted, dressed, and gone down the spiral staircase to a common room that was completely empty except for Ron, who was eating a Peppermint Toad and massaging his stomach, and Hermione, who had spread her homework over three tables. Harry was absent.

"Where is everyone?" I said.

"Gone! It's the first day of the holidays, remember?" said Ron, watching me closely. "It's nearly lunchtime; Hermione was going to come and wake you up in a minute. And I was going to wake up Harry."

I slumped into a chair next to the fire. Snow was still falling outside the windows. Crookshanks was spread out in front of the fire like a large, ginger rug.

"You really don't look well, you know," Hermione said, peering anxiously into my face.

"I'm fine," I said.

"Aurora, listen," said Hermione, exchanging a look with Ron, "you must be really upset about what we heard yesterday. But the thing is, you mustn't go doing anything stupid."

"Like what?" I said.

"Like trying to go after Black," said Ron sharply.

I could tell they had rehearsed this conversation while I had been asleep. I didn't say anything.

"You won't, will you, Aurora?" said Hermione.

I looked at them. They didn't seem to understand at all.

"D'you know what I see and hear every time a Dementor gets too near me?" Ron and Hermione shook their heads, looking apprehensive. "I can hear my mum screaming, screaming for my father. And if you'd heard your mum screaming like that, just about to kill herself, you wouldn't forget it in a hurry. And if you found out someone who was supposed to be loving her, taking care of her, taking care of a daughter, just went out and murdered his best friends, I just—"

"There's nothing you can do!" said Hermione, looking stricken. "The Dementors will catch Black and he'll go back to Azkaban and — and serve him right!"

"You heard what Fudge said. He isn't affected by Azkaban like normal people are. It's not a punishment for him like it is for the others."

"So what are you saying?" said Ron, looking very tense. "You want to — to kill Black or something?"

"Off course not, he's my father. Could you kill your father? I know what he did was wrong, but no way am I going to be strong enough to kill him. And I don't want to. I just want him to know what he did, reflect my pain on him. Make him go through anything he did to me and to Harry. Give him the same amount of pain or even more." Tears were running down my face by now. "I just want some justice for what he has done. And I'm pretty sure Harry hates me now. Not that I can't blame him, I wouldn't even want to be friends with me."

I felt someone coming behind me. Two arms encircled around my shoulders. Someone whispered in my ear.

"I don't hate you, Aurora. I admit, I was angry with you, but hearing with you just said, made me rethink. I remember your first words to me when I found out you were a Black. You told me not to judge you in behave of your father. To get to know you. I did and I think you are amazing. You're my friends and nothing is going to change that, except if you kill one of my friends, then I will be pissed off and I would have to rethink again."

I looked over my shoulder, right into bright green eyes.

"Thank you, Harry, you have no idea how much that means to me."

Harry give me a hug and went to sit next to me in another chair.

"Malfoy knows," he said abruptly. "Remember what he said to me in Potions? 'If it was me, I'd hunt him down myself… I'd want revenge."

"You're going to take Malfoy's advice instead of ours?" said Ron furiously. "Listen… you know what Pettigrew's mother got back after Black had finished with him? Dad told me — the Order of Merlin, First Class, and Pettigrew's finger in a box. That was the biggest bit of him they could find. Black's a madman, Harry, and he's dangerous —"

"Malfoy's dad must have told him," said Harry, ignoring Ron. "He was right in Voldemort's inner circle

—"

"Say You-Know-Who, will you?" interjected Ron angrily.

"— so obviously, the Malfoys knew Black was working for Voldemort —"

"— and Malfoy'd love to see you blown into about a million pieces, like Pettigrew! Get a grip. Malfoy's just hoping you'll get yourself killed before he has to play you at Quidditch."

"Harry, please," said Hermione, her eyes now shining with tears, "Please be sensible. Black did a terrible, terrible thing, but d-don't put yourself in danger, it's what Black wants… Oh, Harry, you'd be playing right into Black's hands if you went looking for him. Your mum and dad wouldn't want you to get hurt, would they? They'd never want you to go looking for Black!"

"I'll never know what they'd have wanted, because thanks to Black, I've never spoken to them," said Harry shortly.

There was a silence in which Crookshanks stretched luxuriously flexing his claws. Ron's pocket quivered. I was just sitting there. I couldn't think anymore.

"Look," said Ron, obviously casting around for a change of subject, "it's the holidays! It's nearly Christmas! Let's — let's go down and see Hagrid. We haven't visited him for ages!"

"No!" said Hermione quickly. "Harry and Aurora aren't supposed to leave the castle, Ron —"

"Yeah, let's go," said Harry, sitting up, "and I can ask him how come he never mentioned Black when he told me all about my parents!"

Further discussion of Sirius Black plainly wasn't what Ron had had in mind.

"Or we could have a game of chess," he said hastily, "or Gobstones. Percy left a set —"

"No, let's visit Hagrid," said Harry firmly.

So we got our cloaks from our dormitories and set off through the portrait hole ("Stand and fight, you yellow-bellied mongrels!").

"Mental, that one!" I mumbled. The others heard and give a small laugh. Hermione looked at me with a smile. I think she's happy that I still make joked.

Down through the empty castle and out through the oak front doors.

We made our way slowly down the lawn, making a shallow trench in the glittering, powdery snow, our socks and the hems of our cloaks soaked and freezing. The Forbidden Forest looked as though it had been enchanted, each tree smattered with silver, and Hagrid's cabin looked like an iced cake.

Ron knocked, but there was no answer.

"He's not out, is he?" said Hermione, who was shivering under her cloak.

Ron had his ear to the door.

"There's a weird noise," he said. "Listen — is that Fang?"

Harry and Hermione put their ears to the door too. From inside the cabin came a series of low, throbbing moans.

"Think we'd better go and get someone?" said Ron nervously.

"Hagrid!" called Harry, thumping the door. "Hagrid, are you in there?"

There was a sound of heavy footsteps, then the door creaked open. Hagrid stood there with his eyes red and swollen, tears splashing down the front of his leather vest.

"You've heard?" he bellowed, and he flung himself onto Harry's neck.

Hagrid being at least twice the size of a normal man, this was no laughing matter. Harry, about to collapse under Hagrid's weight, was rescued by Ron and Hermione, who each seized Hagrid under an arm and heaved him back into the cabin. Hagrid allowed himself to be steered by me into a chair and slumped over the table, sobbing uncontrollably, his face glazed with tears that dripped down into his tangled beard.

"Hagrid, what is it?" said Hermione, aghast.

I spotted an official-looking letter lying open on the table.

"What's this, Hagrid?"

Hagrid's sobs redoubled, but he shoved the letter toward me, I picked it up and read aloud:

Dear Mr. Hagrid,

Further to our inquiry into the attack by a Hippogriff on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident.

"Well, that's okay then, Hagrid!" said Ron, clapping Hagrid on the shoulder. But Hagrid continued to sob, and waved one of his gigantic hands, inviting me to read on.

However, we must register our concern about the Hippogriff in question. We have decided to uphold the official complaint of Mr. Lucius Malfoy, and this matter will therefore be taken to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The hearing will take place on April 20th, and we ask you to present yourself and your Hippogriff at the Committee's offices in London on that date. In the meantime, the Hippogriff should be kept tethered and isolated.

Yours in fellowship…

There followed a list of the school governors.

"Oh," said Ron. "But you said Buckbeak isn't a bad Hippogriff, Hagrid. I bet he'll get off."

"Yeh don' know them gargoyles at the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures!" choked Hagrid, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "They've got it in fer interestin' creatures!"

A sudden sound from the corner of Hagrid's cabin made Harry, Ron, Hermione and me whip around. Buckbeak the Hippogriff was lying in the corner, chomping on something that was oozing blood all over the floor.

"I couldn' leave him tied up out there in the snow!" choked Hagrid. "All on his own! At Christmas."

We looked at one another. They had never seen eye to eye with Hagrid about what he called 'interesting creatures' and other people called 'terrifying monsters.' On the other hand, there didn't seem to be any particular harm in Buckbeak. In fact, by Hagrid's usual standards, he was positively cute.

"You'll have to put up a good strong defense, Hagrid," said Hermione, sitting down and laying a hand on Hagrid's massive forearm. "I'm sure you can prove Buckbeak is safe."

"Won' make no diff'rence!" sobbed Hagrid. "Them Disposal devils, they're all in Lucius Malfoy's pocket! Scared o' him! Ad if I lose the case, Buckbeak —"

Hagrid drew his finger swiftly across his throat, then gave a great wail and lurched forward, his face in his arms.

"What about Dumbledore, Hagrid?" said Harry.

"He's done more'n enough fer me already," groaned Hagrid. "Got enough on his plate what with keepin' them Dementors outta the castle, an' Sirius Black lurkin' around."

Ron and Hermione looked quickly at Harry, as though expecting him to start berating Hagrid for not telling him the truth about Black. But I don't think he could bring himself to do it, not now that he saw Hagrid so miserable and scared.

"Listen, Hagrid," he said, "you can't give up. Hermione's right, you just need a good defense. You can call us as witnesses —"

"I'm sure I've read about a case of Hippogriff-baiting," said Hermione thoughtfully, "where the Hippogriff got off. I'll look it up for you, Hagrid, and see exactly what happened."

"I will help to, five can do a better job than one person." I said.

Hagrid howled still more loudly. Harry, Hermione and me looked at Ron to help us.

"Er — shall I make a cup of tea?" said Ron.

Harry stared at him and I rolled my eyes at him.

"It's what my mum does whenever someone's upset," Ron muttered, shrugging.

At last, after many more assurances of help, with a steaming mug of tea in front of him, Hagrid blew his nose on a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth and said, "Yer right. I can' afford to go ter pieces. Gotta pull meself together…"

Fang the boarhound came timidly out from under the table and laid his head on Hagrid's knee.

"I've not bin meself lately," said Hagrid, stroking Fang with one hand and mopping his face with the other. "Worried abou' Buckbeak, an' no one likin' me classes —"

"We do like them!" lied Hermione at once.

"Yeah, they're great!" said Ron, crossing his fingers under the table. "Er — how are the flobberworms?"

"Dead," said Hagrid gloomily. "Too much lettuce."

"Oh no!" said Ron, his lip twitching.

"An' them Dementors make me feel ruddy terrible an' all," said Hagrid, with a sudden shudder. "Gotta walk past 'em ev'ry time I want a drink in the Three Broomsticks. 'S like bein' back in Azkaban —"

He fell silent, gulping his tea. Harry, Ron, Hermione and me watched him breathlessly. They had never heard Hagrid talk about his brief spell in Azkaban before. After a pause, Hermione said timidly, "Is it awful in there, Hagrid?"

"Yeh've no idea," said Hagrid quietly. "Never bin anywhere like it. Thought I was goin' mad. Kep' goin' over horrible stuff in me mind… the day I got expelled from Hogwarts… day me dad died… day I had ter let Norbert go…"

His eyes filled with tears. I was wondering who Norbert was, but I didn't think this would be a good time to ask.

"Yeh can' really remember who yeh are after a while. An' yeh can' really see the point o' livin' at all. I used ter hope I'd jus' die in me sleep. When they let me out, it was like bein' born again, ev'rythin' came floodin' back, it was the bes' feelin' in the world. Mind, the Dementors weren't keen on lettin' me go."

"But you were innocent!" said Hermione.

Hagrid snorted.

"Think that matters to them? They don' care. Long as they've got a couple o' hundred humans stuck there with 'em, so they can leech all the happiness out of 'em, they don' give a damn who's guilty an' who's not."

Hagrid went quiet for a moment, staring into his tea. Then he said quietly, "Thought o' jus' letting Buckbeak go… tryin' ter make him fly away… but how d'yeh explain ter a Hippogriff it's gotta go inter hidin'? An' — an' I'm scared o' breakin' the law…" He looked up at them, tears leaking down his face again. "I don' ever want ter go back ter Azkaban."

The trip to Hagrid's, though far from fun, had nevertheless had the effect Ron and Hermione had hoped. Though i had by no means forgotten about my father, I couldn't brood constantly on revenge if I wanted to help Hagrid win his case against the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. Harry, Ron, Hermione and me went to the library the next day and returned to the empty common room laden with books that might help prepare a defense for Buckbeak. The four of us sat in front of the roaring fire, slowly turning the pages of dusty volumes about famous cases of marauding beasts, speaking occasionally when they ran across something relevant.

"Here's something… there was a case in 1722… but the Hippogriff was convicted — ugh, look what they did to it, that's disgusting —"

"This might help, look — a Manticore savaged someone in 1296, and they let the Manticore off — oh — no, that was only because everyone was too scared to go near it…"

Meanwhile, in the rest of the castle, the usual magnificent Christmas decorations had been put up, despite the fact that hardly any of the students remained to enjoy them. Thick streamers of holly and mistletoe were strung along the corridors, mysterious lights shone from inside every suit of armor, and the Great Hall was filled with its usual twelve Christmas trees, glittering with golden stars. A powerful and delicious smell of cooking pervaded the corridors, and by Christmas Eve, it had grown so strong that even Scabbers poked his nose out of the shelter of Ron's pocket to sniff hopefully at the air.

On Christmas morning, I was woken by Hermione who was shaking me.

"Aurora, wake up, it's time for presents!"

I looked at the end of my bed and saw a bunch of present lying there, just waiting to be opened. I smiled and reached for the first one.

It was a sweater, in green with a star on the front.

"Who sent me a sweater?" I asked, looking bewildered.

"Let me see," Hermione said, "Oh my, looks like Mrs. Weasley made you a sweater to. She considers you one off the family. I got one two, look." She held up a baby-blue sweater with a book in the front.

"Cute, it really reflected you," I said grinning.

"Oh, hush you," but she smiled and neatly put in the closet.

The next present was from Hermione, I could tell because it was a book. '_Everything there is to know about Purebloods' _ was the tittle. I looked at Hermione.

"Eum, Hermione, not that I don't appreciate it, but really? This book?" I asked her.

"I thought you might want to learn about the traditions and there's a section about the Black family." She looked unsure.

I smiled at her, "It's great, if you want you can borrow it after I finished it."

"Thanks," she smiled and went back to her pile of present.

The next one was from Ron, he give me an assortment of sweets. Harry got me a necklace with a star. I put it on. I really liked it. The twins give me products from Zonko and uncle Moony give me a ball of glass with him and me in it. He was twirling me around in the snow. It was beautiful.

I gave Hermione a book _'1000 Charms'_ , Ron chocolate frogs, Harry a book about the Potters, the twins a note which said:

_If you are brave and sweet, loyal and smart, cunning and sneaky, I might give you a hint about what I know about you know what!_

_Your sincerely _

_Fair Lady X_

I gave uncle Moony his favorite chocolate and the newest book on magical animals. He loves them.

"Ready? Let's go to the boys then," Hermione said.

We went to get ready and went to the boys. We heard them laughing and went inside.

"What're you two laughing about?" Hermione asked.

"Don't bring him in here!" said Ron, seeing that Hermione was carrying Crookshanks, hurriedly snatching Scabbers from the depths of his bed and stowing him in his pajama pocket.

But Hermione wasn't listening. She dropped Crookshanks onto Seamus's empty bed and stared, open-mouthed, at the Firebolt.

"Oh, Harry! Who sent you that?"

"No idea," said Harry. "There wasn't a card or anything with it."

To my great surprise, Hermione did not appear either excited or intrigued by the news. On the contrary, her face fell, and she bit her lip.

"What's the matter with you?" I asked.

"I don't know," said Hermione slowly, "but it's a bit odd, isn't it? I mean, this is supposed to be quite a good broom, isn't it?"

Ron sighed exasperatedly. "It's the best broom there is, Hermione," he said.

"So it must've been really expensive…"

"Probably cost more than all the Slytherins' brooms put together," said Ron happily.

"Well… who'd send Harry something as expensive as that, and not even tell him they'd sent it?" said Hermione.

"Who cares?" said Ron impatiently. "Listen, Harry, can I have a go on it? Can I?"

"I don't think anyone should ride that broom just yet!" said Hermione shrilly.

We looked at her.

"What d'you think Harry's going to do with it — sweep the floor?" said Ron. I let out a small laugh but seeing her face, I quickly changed it into a cough.

But before Hermione could answer, Crookshanks sprang from Seamus's bed, right at Ron's chest.

"GET — HIM — OUT — OF — HERE!" Ron bellowed as Crookshanks's claws ripped his pajamas and Scabbers attempted a wild escape over his shoulder. Ron seized Scabbers by the tail and aimed a misjudged kick at Crookshanks that hit the trunk at the end of Harry's bed, knocking it over and causing Ron to hop up and down, howling with pain.

Crookshanks's fur suddenly stood on end. A shrill, tinny, whistling was filling the room.

"I forgot about that!" Harry said, bending down and picking up the Sneakoscope. "I never wear those socks if I can help it…"

The Sneakoscope whirled and whistled in his palm. Crookshanks was hissing and spitting at it.

"You'd better take that cat out of here, Hermione," said Ron furiously, sitting on Harry's bed nursing his toe. "Can't you shut that thing up?" he added to Harry as Hermione strode out of the room, Crookshanks's yellow eyes still fixed maliciously on Ron. I stayed.

Harry stuffed the Sneakoscope back inside the socks and threw it back into his trunk. All that could be heard now were Ron's stifled moans of pain and rage. Scabbers was huddled in Ron's hands. It had been a while since I had seen him out of Ron's pocket, and I was unpleasantly surprised to see that Scabbers, was very skinny; patches of fur seemed to have fallen out too.

"It's stress!" said Ron. "He'd be fine if that big stupid furball left him alone!"

Christmas spirit was definitely thin on the ground in the Gryffindor common room that morning. Hermione had shut Crookshanks in her dormitory, but was furious with Ron for trying to kick him; Ron was still fuming about Crookshanks's fresh attempt to eat Scabbers. Harry gave up trying to make them talk to each other and devoted himself to examining the Firebolt, which he had brought down to the common room with him. For some reason this seemed to annoy Hermione as well; she didn't say anything, but she kept looking darkly at the broom as though it too had been criticizing her cat. I didn't even start to say anything. I don't know them as long as Harry, and if he couldn't get them to talk to each other, I bet I couldn't either.

At lunchtime we went down to the Great Hall, to find that the House tables had been moved against the walls again, and that a single table, set for twelve, stood in the middle of the room. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick were there, along with Filch, the caretaker, who had taken off his usual brown coat and was wearing a very old and rather moldy-looking tailcoat. There were only two other students, one extremely nervous-looking first year and a sullen-faced Slytherin fifth year.

"Happy Christmas!" said Dumbledore as we approached the table. "As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the House tables… Sit down, sit down!"

We sat down side by side at the end of the table.

"Crackers!" said Dumbledore enthusiastically, offering the end of a large silver noisemaker to Snape, who took it reluctantly and tugged. With a bang like a gunshot, the cracker flew apart to reveal a large, pointed witches hat topped with a stuffed vulture.

I, remembering the Boggart, caught Harry's eye and we both grinned; Snape's mouth thinned and he pushed the hat toward Dumbledore, who swapped it for his wizard's hat at once.

"Dig in!" he advised the table, beaming around.

As I was helping myself to roast potatoes, the doors of the Great Hall opened again. It was Professor Trelawney, gliding toward them as though on wheels. She had put on a green sequined dress in honor of the occasion, making her look more than ever like a glittering, oversized dragonfly.

"Sybill, this is a pleasant surprise!" said Dumbledore, standing up.

"I have been crystal gazing, Headmaster," said Professor Trelawney in her mistiest, most faraway voice, "and to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you to forgive my lateness…"

"Certainly, certainly," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "Let me draw you up a chair —"

And he did indeed draw a chair in midair with his wand, which revolved for a few seconds before falling with a thud between Professors Snape and McGonagall. Professor Trelawney, however, did not sit down; her enormous eyes had been roving around the table, and she suddenly uttered a kind of soft scream.

"I dare not, Headmaster! If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"

"We'll risk it, Sybill," said Professor McGonagall impatiently. "Do sit down, the turkey's getting stone cold."

Professor Trelawney hesitated, then lowered herself into the empty chair, eyes shut and mouth clenched tight, as though expecting a thunderbolt to hit the table. Professor McGonagall poked a large spoon into the nearest tureen.

"Tripe, Sybill?"

Professor Trelawney ignored her. Eyes open again, she looked around once more and said, "But where is dear Professor Lupin?"

"I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again," said Dumbledore, indicating that everybody should start serving themselves. "Most unfortunate that it should happen on Christmas Day."

"But surely you already knew that, Sybill?" said Professor McGonagall, her eyebrows raised.

Professor Trelawney gave Professor McGonagall a very cold look.

"Certainly I knew, Minerva," she said quietly. "But one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing. I frequently act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous."

"That explains a great deal," said Professor McGonagall tartly.

Professor Trelawney's voice suddenly became a good deal less misty.

"If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long. He seems aware, himself, that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal gaze for him —"

"Imagine that," said Professor McGonagall dryly.

I laughed at that, I could see it, uncle Moony running away.

"I doubt," said Dumbledore, in a cheerful but slightly raised voice, which put an end to Professor McGonagall and Professor Trelawney's conversation, "that Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger. Severus, you've made the potion for him again?

"Yes, Headmaster," said Snape.

"Good," said Dumbledore. "Then he should be up and about in no time… Derek, have you had any of the chipolatas? They're excellent."

The first-year boy went furiously red on being addressed directly by Dumbledore, and took the platter of sausages with trembling hands.

Professor Trelawney behaved almost normally until the very end of Christmas dinner, two hours later. Full to bursting with Christmas dinner and still wearing their cracker hats, Harry and Ron got up first from the table and she shrieked loudly.

"My dears! Which of you left his seat first? Which?"

"Dunno," said Ron, looking uneasily at Harry.

"I doubt it will make much difference," said Professor McGonagall coldly, "unless a mad axe-man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the Entrance Hall."

Even Ron laughed. Professor Trelawney looked highly affronted.

"Coming?" Harry said to Hermione and me. I stood up and went to stand next to him.

"No," Hermione muttered. "I want a quick word with Professor McGonagall."

"Probably trying to see if she can take any more classes," yawned Ron as we make our way into the Entrance Hall, which was completely devoid of mad axe-men.

When we reached the portrait hole we found Sir Cadogan enjoying a Christmas part with a couple of monks, several previous headmasters of Hogwarts and his fat pony. He pushed up his visor toasted them with a flagon of mead.

"Happy — hic — Christmas! Password?"

"Scurvy cur," said Ron.

"And the same to you, sir!" roared Sir Cadogan, as the painting swung forward to admit us.

Harry went straight up to the dormitory, and came down with his Firebolt and a Broomstick Servicing Kit and tried to find something to do with the Firebolt; however, there where no bent twigs to clip, and the handle was so shiny already it seemed pointless to polish it. I went to mine dormitory to get the book I got from Hermione and went back to the common room. There I sat in chair and looked at Harry. He and Ron simply sat admiring it from every angle, until the portrait hole opened, and Hermione came in, accompanied by Professor McGonagall.

Though Professor McGonagall was Head of Gryffindor House, I never saw her in the common room before. We stared at her. Hermione walked around them, sat down, picked up the nearest book and hid her face behind it.

"So that's it, is it?" said Professor McGonagall beadily, walking over to the fireside and staring at the Firebolt. "Miss Granger has just informed me that you have been sent a broomstick, Potter."

We looked around at Hermione. We could see her forehead reddening over the top of her book, which was upside-down.

"May I?" said Professor McGonagall, but she didn't wait for an answer before pulling the Firebolt out of Harry hands. She examined it carefully from handle to twig-ends. "Hmm. And there was no note at all, Potter? No card? No message of any kind?"

"No," said Harry blankly.

"I see…" said Professor McGonagall. "Well, I'm afraid I will have to take this, Potter."

"W — what?" said Harry, scrambling to his feet. "Why?"

"It will need to be checked for jinxes," said Professor McGonagall. "Of course, I'm no expert, but I daresay Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick will strip it down —"

"Strip it down?" repeated Ron, as though Professor McGonagall was mad.

"It shouldn't take more than a few weeks," said Professor McGonagall. "You will have it back if we are sure it is jinx-free."

"There's nothing wrong with it!" said Harry, his voice shaking slightly. "Honestly, Professor —"

"You can't know that, Potter," said Professor McGonagall, quite kindly, "not until you've flown it, at any rate, and I'm afraid that is out of the question until we are certain that it has not been tampered with. I shall keep you informed."

Professor McGonagall turned on her heel and carried the Firebolt out of the portrait hole, which closed behind her. Harry stood staring after her, the tin of High-Finish Polish still clutched in his hands. Ron, however, rounded on Hermione.

"What did you go running to McGonagall for?"

Hermione threw her book aside. She was still pink in the face, but stood up and faced Ron defiantly.

"Because I thought — and Professor McGonagall agrees with me — that that broom was probably sent to Harry by Sirius Black!"

**A/N: Chapter 7 done. It took longer to write and was kinda hard, because of all the emotion and stuff. Please tell me what you think of it. **

**Thank you for reading my story so far. It makes me very happy.**


	8. The Patronus charm

**A/N**

**Oracle2Phoenix: Hey, thanks for reading my story. Don't worry I will continue writing after book 3. There are a lot of scene in my head already for the other books. Aurora will stay at Hogwarts to continue her education there. **

**Lady Riddle-Black: Thank you!**

**Maximum Dusk: I was asking myself the same question, but then I thought: Sirius doesn't know Aurora is at Hogwarts. It was kept out of the paper, Dumbledore's order. Sirius also never thought about his daughter because he hasn't' seen her since she was 1 and it's hard to send a present from Azkaban. I thought about it a lot and I thought this was the best ;). Also thank you for the lovely review :p I completely agree with you! :p**

**Now on with the story!**

**Chapter 8: The Patronus Charm**

I knew that Hermione had meant well, but that didn't stop Harry from being angry with her. He had been the owner of the best broom in the world for a few short hours, and now, because of her interference, he didn't know whether he would ever see it again. He was positive that there was nothing wrong with the Firebolt now, but what sort of state would it be in once it had been subjected to all sorts of anti-jinx tests? He told me this over and over again. It was really irritating after hearing it several times.

Ron was furious with Hermione too. As far as he was concerned, the stripping-down of a brand-new Firebolt was nothing less than criminal damage. Hermione, who remained convinced that she had acted for the best, started avoiding the common room. Me being a good friend, decided that Hermione would need a friend right now and the boys have each other, so I thought I keep Hermione company.

We have taken refuge in the library and the boys didn't try to persuade her to come back, or me for that matter.

All in all, we were glad when the rest of the school returned shortly after New Year, and Gryffindor Tower became crowded and noisy again. Wood sought Harry out on the night before term started. I was sitting with the boys because Hermione was doing her homework and I already finished and I needed someone to talk to.

"Had a good Christmas?" he said, and then, without waiting for an answer, he sat down, lowered his voice, and said, "I've been, doing some thinking over Christmas, Harry. After last match, you know. If the Dementors come to the next one… I mean… we can't afford you to — well —"

Wood broke off, looking awkward.

"I'm working on it," said Harry quickly. "Professor Lupin said he'd train me to ward off the Dementors. We should be starting this week. He said he'd have time after Christmas."

"Ah," said Wood, his expression clearing. "Well, in that case — I really didn't want to lose you as Seeker, Harry. And have you ordered a new broom yet?"

"No," said Harry.

"What! You'd better get a move on, you know — you can't ride that Shooting Star against Ravenclaw!"

"He got a Firebolt for Christmas," said Ron.

"A Firebolt? No! Seriously? A — a real Firebolt?"

"Don't get excited, Oliver," said Harry gloomily. "I haven't got it anymore. It was confiscated." And he explained all about how the Firebolt was now being checked for jinxes.

"Jinxed? How could it be jinxed?"

"Sirius Black," Harry said wearily. "He's supposed to be after me. So McGonagall reckons he might have sent it."

Waving aside the information that a famous murderer was after his Seeker, Wood said, "But Black couldn't have bought a Firebolt! He's on the run! The whole country's on the lookout for him! How could he just walk into Quality Quidditch Supplies and buy a broomstick?"

"I know," said Harry, "but McGonagall still wants to strip it down —"

Wood went pale.

"I'll go and talk to her, Harry," he promised. "I'll make her see reason… A Firebolt… a real Firebolt, on our team… She wants Gryffindor to win as much as we do… I'll make her see sense. A Firebolt…"

"That boy is way to fanatic. Doesn't he care about your health?" I said.

The boys looked at me like I was crazy. I stared back. Nobody looks at me like that.

Classes started again the next day. The last thing anyone felt like doing was spending two hours on the grounds on a raw January morning, but Hagrid had provided a bonfire full of salamanders for their enjoyment, and we spent an unusually good lesson collecting dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing while the flame-loving lizards scampered up and down the crumbling, white-hot logs. The first Divination lesson of the new term was much less fun; Professor Trelawney was now teaching them palmistry, and she lost no time in informing Harry that he had the shortest life line she had ever seen.

It was Defense Against the Dark Arts that Harry and I were keen to get to; after his conversation with Wood, he wanted to get started on his anti-Dementor lessons as soon as possible. So did I, I didn't want to hear my mother again.

"Ah yes," said Lupin, when Harry and I reminded him of his promise at the end of class. "Let me see… how about eight o'clock on Thursday evening? The History of Magic classroom should be large enough… I'll have to think carefully about how we're going to do this… We can't bring a real Dementor into the castle to practice on…"

"Still looks ill, doesn't he?" said Ron as they walked down the corridor, heading to dinner. "What d'you reckon's the matter with him?"

There was a loud and impatient "tuh" from behind them. It was Hermione, who had been sitting at the feet of a suit of armor, repacking her bag, which was so full of books it wouldn't close.

"And what are you tutting at us for?" said Ron irritably.

"Nothing," said Hermione in a lofty voice, heaving her bag back over her shoulder.

"Yes, you were," said Ron. "I said I wonder what's wrong with Lupin, and you —"

"Well, isn't it obvious?" said Hermione, with a look of maddening superiority.

Oh crap, she knows, how did she found out? On the outside I looked calm but on the inside I was freaking out.

"If you don't want to tell us, don't," snapped Ron.

"Fine," said Hermione haughtily, and she marched off. When she passed me, she gave me a calculating look.

"She doesn't know," said Ron, staring resentfully after Hermione. "She's just trying to get us to talk to her again."

"Why can't you guys forgive her? She's hurting!" I said to them.

They ignored me. "Boys!" I muttered.

At eight o'clock on Thursday evening, Harry and I left Gryffindor Tower for the History of Magic classroom. It was dark and empty when we arrived, but I lit the lamps with my wand and we waited only five minutes when uncle Moony turned up, carrying a large packing case, which he heaved onto Professor Binn's desk.

"What's that?" said Harry.

"Another Boggart," said Lupin, stripping off his cloak. "I've been combing the castle ever since Tuesday, and very luckily, I found this one lurking inside Mr. Filch's filing cabinet. It's the nearest we'll get to a real Dementor. The Boggart will turn into a Dementor when he sees you, so we'll be able to practice on him. I can store him in my office when we're not using him; there's a cupboard under my desk he'll like."

"Okay," said Harry, trying to sound as though he wasn't apprehensive at all and merely glad that Lupin had found such a good substitute for a real Dementor.

"And how am I going to practice? The Boggart won't change into a Dementor for me," I asked.

"I don't know. The only thing you can do is stand a little behind Harry and practice that way. If it doesn't work, we will have to find another solution," uncle Moony said.

"So…" uncle Moony had taken out his own wand, and indicated that we should do the same. "The spell I am going to try and teach you is highly advanced magic, Harry, Aurora — well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level. It is called the Patronus Charm."

"How does it work?" said Harry nervously.

"Well, when it works correctly, It conjures up a Patronus," said uncle Moony, "which is a kind of anti-Dementor — a guardian that acts as a shield between you and the Dementor."

I had a sudden vision of myself standing behind a soldier who was swinging a sword at the Dementor.

Uncle Moony continued, "The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the Dementor feeds upon — hope, happiness, the desire to survive — but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the Dementors can't hurt it. But I must warn you, Aurora, Harry, that the charm might be too advanced for you. Many qualified wizards have difficulty with it."

"What does a Patronus look like?" I asked curiously.

"Each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it."

"And how do you conjure it?"

"With an incantation, which will work only if you are concentrating, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory."

I cast my mind about for a happy memory. Certainly, nothing about my mother or father would work, since I don't have any happy memories about them, at least not very happy memory.. Finally, I settled on the moment when I pulled me first prank on uncle Moony without getting caught.

"Right," I said, trying to recall as exactly as possible the wonderful, soaring sensation of happiness.

"The incantation is this —" uncle Moony cleared his throat. "Expecto patronum!"

"Expecto patronum," Harry and I repeated, "expecto patronum."

"Concentrating hard on your happy memory?"

"Oh — yeah —" I said, hearing Harry do the same, quickly forcing my thoughts back to the result of the prank. "Expecto patrono — no, patronum — sorry — expecto patronum, expecto patronum"

Something whooshed suddenly out of the end of Harry's wand; it looked like a wisp of silvery gas.

"Did you see that?" said Harry excitedly. "Something happened!"

"Very good," said Lupin, smiling. "Right, then — ready to try it on a Dementor?"

"What about me?" I asked, " It didn't work for me."

"Pick another memory, Aurora, I'm guessing this one isn't strong enough," uncle Moony told me.

I thought about it. Another very happy memory. And then it came to me. The moment I found out that they wanted to be my friends. The moment I found out I had friends. I smiled and nodded to uncle Moony. I was ready.

"Ok, you guys ready?" uncle Moony asked.

"Yes," Harry said, gripping his wand very tightly, and moving into the middle of the deserted classroom. I went to stand a little behind him. I tried to keep my mind on fleeing I had then, but something else kept intruding… Any second now, I might hear my mother again… but I shouldn't think that, or I would hear her again, and I didn't want to…

Uncle Moony grasped the lid of the packing case and pulled.

A Dementor rose slowly from the box, its hooded face turned toward Harry, one glistening, scabbed hand gripping its cloak. The lamps around the classroom flickered and went out. The Dementor stepped from the box and started to sweep silently toward Harry, drawing a deep, rattling breath. A wave of piercing cold broke over me —

"Expecto patronum!" Harry yelled. "Expecto patronum! Expecto —"

I tried but I couldn't, I couldn't think anymore.

The classroom and the Dementor were dissolving… I was falling again through thick white fog, and my mother's voice was louder than ever, echoing inside my head — "I'm sick of this, I can't handle it anymore…"

"Mum, what are you doing?"

"Aurora!"

I jerked back to life. I was lying flat on my back on the floor. The classroom lamps were alight again. I didn't have to ask what had happened. I looked beside me and saw Harry lying on the floor to. He looked at me. We give each other a weak smile.

"Sorry," I muttered, sitting up and feeling cold sweat trickling down my back.

"Are you all right?" said uncle Moony.

"Yes…"

Harry pulled himself up on one of the desks and leaned against it.

"Here —"uncle Moony handed him a Chocolate Frog. "Eat this before we try again. I didn't expect you to do it your first time; in fact, I would have been astounded if you had."

"It's getting worse," Harry muttered, biting off the Frog's head. "I could hear her louder that time — and him — Voldemort —"

"I heard me to, this time" I said, looking at the floor.

Uncle Moony looked paler than usual.

"If you don't want to continue, I will more than understand —"

"I do!" said Harry fiercely, stuffing the rest of the Chocolate Frog into his mouth. "I've got to! What if the Dementors turn up at our match against Ravenclaw? I can't afford to fall off again. If we lose this game we've lost the Quidditch Cup!"

"Me to, I don't want to relive that moment ever again!" I stood tall.

"All right then…" said uncle Moony. "You might want to select another memory, Harry, a happy memory, I mean, to concentrate on… That one doesn't seem to have been strong enough…"

Harry nodded. I saw him concentrating. He gripped his wand tightly again and took up his position in the middle of the classroom. I went to stand behind him again.

"Ready?" said uncle Moony, gripping the box lid.

"Ready," said Harry; I took a deep breath and thought about the others, and not dark thoughts about what was going to happen when the box opened.

"Go!" said uncle Moony, pulling off the lid. The room went icily cold and dark once more. The Dementor glided forward, drawing its breath; one rotting hand was extending toward Harry —

"Expecto patronum!" Harry and I yelled. "Expecto patronum! Expecto Pat —"

White fog obscured my senses… big, blurred shapes were moving around me… then came a voice, my mother's voice, shouting, —

" I'm sick of this, I can't handle it anymore…"

"Mum, what are you doing?"

"It's the only way, the only way I can get away from here, my sweet darling, here I come –"

"Mum, Nooooooo!"

"Aurora! Aurora… wake up…"

Uncle Moony was tapping me hard on the face. This time it was a minute before I understood why I was lying on a dusty classroom floor.

"I heard my dad," Harry mumbled. "That's the first time I've ever heard him — he tried to take on Voldemort himself, to give my mum time to run for it…"

I suddenly realized that there were tears on my face mingling with the sweat. So did Harry. He bent his face as low as possible, wiping them off on his robes, pretending to do up his shoelace, so that we wouldn't see. But I did, I feel his pain.

"You heard James?" said uncle Moony in a strange voice.

"Yeah…" Face dry, Harry looked up. "Why — you didn't know my dad, did you?"

"I — I did, as a matter of fact," said uncle Moony. "We were friends at Hogwarts. Listen, Harry, Aurora — perhaps we should leave it here for tonight. This charm is ridiculously advanced… I shouldn't have suggested putting you through this…"

"No!" said Harry. He got up again. "I'll have one more go! I'm not thinking of happy enough things, that's what it is… hang on…"

"I'm sitting this one out, I can't handle another one," I said. I went to sit as far away from them as possible.

Harry got to his feet and faced the packing case once more.

"Ready?" said uncle Moony, who looked as though he were doing this against his better judgment.

"Concentrating hard? All right — go!"

He pulled off the lid of the case for the third time, and the Dementor rose out of it; the room fell cold and dark —

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry bellowed. "EXPECTO PATRONUM! EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

The screaming inside my head had started again — except this time, it sounded as though it were coming from a badly tuned radio — softer and louder and softer again… and I could still see the Dementor… it had halted… and then a huge, silver shadow came bursting out of the end of Harry's wand, to hover between him and the Dementor, and Harry was still on his feet — though for how much longer, I wasn't sure…

"Riddikulus!" roared uncle Moony, springing forward.

There was a loud crack, and Harry's cloudy Patronus vanished along with the Dementor; Harry sank into a chair, looking as exhausted as if he'd just run a mile, and f his legs were shaking. Out of the corner of my eye, i saw uncle Moony forcing the Boggart back into the packing case with his wand; it had turned into a silvery orb again.

I stood up and went to Harry. I smiled at him.

"Excellent!" uncle Moony said, striding over to where Harry sat. "Excellent, Harry! That was definitely a start!"

"Can we have another go? Just one more go?"

"Not now," said Lupin firmly. "You've had enough for one night. Here —"

He handed Harry a large bar of Honeydukes' best chocolate.

"Eat the lot, or Madam Pomfrey will be after my blood. Same time next week? And Aurora, I want you to go to bed immediately. Why can't you just eat chocolate, it would be so much easier."

"Okay," Harry and I said togehter. He took a bite of the chocolate and I watched uncle Moony extinguishing the lamps that had rekindled with the disappearance of the Dementor.

"Professor Lupin?" Harry said. "If you knew my dad, you must've known Sirius Black as well."

Uncle Moony turned very quickly.

"What gives you that idea?" he said sharply.

"Nothing — I mean, I just knew they were friends at Hogwarts too…"

Uncle Moony's face relaxed.

"Yes, I knew him," he said shortly. "Or I thought I did. You'd better be off, it's getting late."

We left the classroom, walking along the corridor and around a corner, then Harry took a detour behind a suit of armor, waving to me to follow him and sank down on its plinth to finish his chocolate. I went to sit next to him, wishing he hadn't mentioned Black, as uncle Moony was obviously not keen on the subject.

"Aurora, can I ask you a question?" he asked.

"Sure, what is it?"

"Why do you call Lupin uncle? Is he really your uncle?"

I sat there quietly, wondering how I should tell him.

"Uncle Moony isn't really my uncle. He's my godfather and after my mother passed away, or killed herself, I went to live with him. He was at our place a lot, helping my mother. He tried to reason with her, that she should let go, give up the research, that she couldn't do anything. It didn't work, so he stopped trying and began to help me. I don't know what I would've done without him. I think I would be insane right know. I own him so much. I love him." Tears were running down my face.

"I'm so sorry, Aurora, I shouldn't have asked," he put an arm around me.

"No, it's ok," I put my head on his shoulder. "Thank you!"

"For what?" he asked.

"For being here, for being my friend and for not judging me."

"No problem, you are my friend, Aurora, and friends help each other!"

He give my shoulder a squeeze, stood up, crammed the last bit of chocolate into his mouth, helped me up and we headed back to Gryffindor Tower.

Ravenclaw played Slytherin a week after the start of term. Slytherin won, though narrowly. According to Harry, this was good news for Gryffindor, who would take second place if they beat Ravenclaw too. Wood therefore increased the number of team practices to five a week. This meant that with uncle Moony's anti-Dementor classes, which were draining, Harry had just one night a week to do all his homework. I tried to help as much as I could.

Even so, he was not showing the strain nearly as much as Hermione, whose immense workload finally seemed to be getting to her. Every night, without fail, Hermione was to be seen in a corner of the common room, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes; she barely spoke to anybody and snapped when she was interrupted. I tried talking to her that she was killing herself, but she didn't listen.

"How's she doing it?" Ron muttered to me one evening as I sat finishing a nasty essay on Undetectable Poisons for Snape. I looked up. Hermione was barely visible behind a tottering pile of books.

I didn't have time to fathom the mystery of Hermione's impossible schedule at the moment; I really needed to get on with Snape's essay. Helping Harry with his first, made me falling behind on my work, but it was the last one. Didn't mean I wanted it to be over. Two seconds later, however, I was interrupted again, this time by Wood.

"Bad news, Harry. I've just been to see Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt. She — er — got a bit shirty with me. Told me I'd got my priorities wrong. Seemed to think I cared more about winning the Cup than I do about you staying alive. Just because I told her I didn't care if it threw you off, as long as you caught the Snitch first."

Wood shook his head in disbelief. "Honestly, the way she was yelling at me… you'd think I'd said something terrible. Then I asked her how much longer she was going to keep it…" He screwed up his face and imitated Professor McGonagall's severe voice. "As long as necessary, Wood"… I reckon it's time you ordered a new broom, Harry. There's an order form at the back of Which Broomstick… you could get a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, like Malfoy's got."

"I'm not buying anything Malfoy thinks is good," said Harry flatly.

I rolled my eyes. "Boys," I mumbeled.

January faded imperceptibly into February, with no change in the bitterly cold weather. The match against Ravenclaw was drawing nearer and nearer, but Harry still hadn't ordered a new broom. He was now asking Professor McGonagall for news of the Firebolt after every Transfiguration lesson, Ron standing hopefully at his shoulder, Hermione rushing past with her face averted and me standing torn. Follow Hermione or listen to what McGonagall has to say. At the end she won, he really wanted to know if the Firebolt was send by my father.

"No, Potter, you can't have it back yet," Professor McGonagall told him the twelfth time this happened, before he'd even opened his mouth. "We've checked for most of the usual curses, but Professor Flitwick believes the broom might be carrying a Hurling Hex. I shall tell you once we've finished checking it. Now, please stop badgering me."

To make matters even worse, Harry's anti-Dementor lessons were not going nearly as well as he had hoped. Several sessions on, he was able to produce an indistinct, silvery shadow every time the Boggart-Dementor approached him, but his Patronus was too feeble to drive the Dementor away. All it did was hover, like a semitransparent cloud, draining Harry of energy as he fought to keep it there.

I told him that he was doing great, better than me. I hadn't even produced anything.

"You're expecting too much of yourself," said uncle Moony, sternly in our fourth week of practice. "For a thirteen-year-old wizard, even an indistinct Patronus is a huge achievement. You aren't passing out anymore, are you?"

"I thought a Patronus would — charge the Dementors down or something," said Harry dispiritedly. "Make them disappear —"

"The true Patronus does do that," said uncle Moony. "But you've achieved a great deal in a very short space of time. If the Dementors put in an appearance at your next Quidditch match, you will be able to keep them at bay long enough to get back to the ground."

"You said it's harder if there are loads of them," said Harry.

"I have complete confidence in you," said uncle Moony, smiling.

"Here — you've earned a drink. Something from the Three Broomsticks. You won't have tried it before —"

He pulled three bottles out of his briefcase.

"Butterbeer!" said Harry, without thinking. "Yeah, I like that stuff!"

Uncle Moony raised an eyebrow. I wanted to slap myself in the face. Stupid!

" Ron and Hermione brought us some back from Hogsmeade," I lied easily.

"I see," said uncle Moony, though he still looked slightly suspicious.

"Well — let's drink to a Gryffindor victory against Ravenclaw! Not that I'm supposed to take sides, as a teacher…" he added hastily.

We drank the butterbeer in silence, until Harry voiced something he'd been wondering for a while.

"What's under a Dementor's hood?"

Uncle Moony lowered his bottle thoughtfully.

"Hmmm… well, the only people who really know are in no condition to tell us. You see, the Dementor lowers its hood only to use its last and worst weapon."

"What's that?"

"They call it the Dementor's Kiss," said uncle Moony, with a slightly twisted smile. "It's what Dementors do to those they wish to destroy utterly. I suppose there must be some kind of mouth under there, because they clamp their jaws upon the mouth of the victim and — and suck out his soul."

Harry accidentally spat out a bit of butterbeer.

"That's disgusting," I said, looking sick.

"What — they kill —?"

"Oh no," said uncle Moony. "Much worse than that. You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you'll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no… anything. There's no chance at all of recovery. You'll just exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever… lost."

Uncle Moony drank a little more butterbeer, then said, "It's the fate that awaits Sirius Black. It was in the Daily Prophet this morning. The Ministry have given the Dementors permission to perform it if they find him."

I sat stunned for a moment at the idea of someone having their soul sucked out through their mouth.

"He deserves it," Harry said suddenly.

"You think so?" I said coldl. "Do you really think anyone deserves that?"

"Yes," said Harry defiantly. "For… for some things…"

I stared at him. "It's a cruel and nobody deserves that fate, even the cruelest persons out there. There are other ways to do things."

Harry sat there, looking at me and then he nodded. I really hoped he understands it.

We finished our butterbeer, thanked uncle Moony, and left the History of Magic classroom.

I half wished that Harry hadn't asked what was under a Dementor's hood, the answer had been so horrible, and I was so lost in unpleasant thoughts of what it would feel like to have your soul sucked out of you that I didn't notice Harry walking headlong into Professor McGonagall halfway up the stairs.

"Do watch where you're going, Potter!"

"Sorry, Professor —"

"I've just been looking for you in the Gryffindor common room, Well, here it is, we've done everything we could think of, and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it at all — you've got a very good friend somewhere, Potter…"

Harry's jaw dropped. She was holding out his Firebolt.

"I can have it back?" Harry said weakly. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," said Professor McGonagall, and she was actually smiling. "I daresay you'll need to get the feel of it before Saturday's match, won't you? And Potter —do try and win, won't you? Or we'll be out of the running for the eighth year in a row, as Professor Snape was kind enough to remind me only last night…"

Speechless, Harry carried the Firebolt back upstairs toward Gryffindor Tower. As we turned a corner, we saw Ron dashing toward him, grinning from ear to ear.

"She gave it to you? Excellent! Listen, can I still have a go on it? Tomorrow?"

"Yeah… anything…" said Harry. "You know what — we should make up with Hermione… She was only trying to help…"

"Yeah, all right," said Ron. "She's in the common room now working — for a change."

I smiled at them, they finally grew a pair of brains.

We turned into the corridor to Gryffindor Tower and saw Neville, pleading with Sir Cadogan, who seemed to be refusing him entrance.

"I wrote them down!" Neville was saying tearfully. "But I must've dropped them somewhere!"

"A likely tale!" roared Sir Cadogan. Then, spotting Harry, Ron and me: "Good even, my fine young yeomen and Lady! Come clap this loon in irons. He is trying to force entry to the chambers within!"

"Oh, shut up," said Ron as we drew level with Neville.

"I've lost the passwords!" Neville told them miserably. "I made him tell me what passwords he was going to use this week, because he keeps changing them, and now I don't know what I've done with them!"

"it's ok, Neville, I'll help you," I said to him.

"Oddsbodkins," said Harry to Sir Cadogan, who looked extremely disappointed and reluctantly swung forward to let them into the common room. There was a sudden, excited murmur as every head turned and the next moment, Harry was surrounded by people exclaiming over his Firebolt.

"Where'd you get it, Harry?"

"Will you let me have a go?"

"Have you ridden it yet, Harry?"

"Ravenclaw'll have no chance, they're all on Cleansweep Sevens!"

"Can I just hold it, Harry?"

After ten minutes or so, during which the Firebolt was Passed around and admired from every angle, the crowd dispersed and we had a clear view of Hermione, the only person who hadn't rushed over to us, bent over her work and carefully avoiding their eyes. We approached her table and at last, she looked up.

"I got it back," said Harry, grinning at her and holding up the Firebolt.

"See, Hermione? There wasn't anything wrong with it!" said Ron.

"Well — there might have been!" said Hermione. "I mean, at least you know now that it's safe!"

"Yeah, I suppose so," said Harry. "I'd better put it upstairs."

"I'll take it!" said Ron eagerly. "I've got to give Scabbers his rat tonic."

He took the Firebolt and, holding it as if it were made of glass, carried it away up the boys' staircase.

"Can we sit down, then?" Harry asked Hermione. I smiled at her, nodding to her.

"I suppose so," said Hermione, moving a great stack of parchment off a chair.

I looked around at the cluttered table, at the long Arithmancy essay on which the ink was still glistening, at the even longer Muggle Studies essay ('Explain Why Muggles Need Electricity') and at the rune translation Hermione was now poring over.

"How are you getting through all this stuff?" Harry asked her.

"Oh, well — you know — working hard," said Hermione. Close-up, I saw that she looked almost as tired as uncle Moony.

"Why don't you just drop a couple of subjects?" Harry asked, watching her lifting books as she searched for her rune dictionary.

"I couldn't do that!" said Hermione, looking scandalized.

"Hermione, your killing yourself!" I said.

"Arithmancy looks terrible," said Harry, picking up a very complicated-looking number chart.

"Oh no, it's wonderful!" said Hermione earnestly. "It's my favorite subject! It's —"

But exactly what was wonderful about Arithmancy, we never found out. At that precise moment, a strangled yell echoed down the boys' staircase. The whole common room fell silent, staring, petrified, at the entrance. Then came hurried footsteps, growing louder and louder — and then Ron came leaping into view, dragging with him a bedsheet.

"LOOK!" he bellowed, striding over to Hermione's table. "LOOK!" he yelled, shaking the sheets in her face.

"Ron, what —?"

"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!"

Hermione was leaning away from Ron, looking utterly bewildered. I looked down at the sheet Ron was holding. There was something red on it. Something that looked horribly like —

"BLOOD!" Ron yelled into the stunned silence.

"HE'S GONE! AND YOU KNOW WHAT WAS ON THE FLOOR?"

"N — no," said Hermione in a trembling voice.

Ron threw something down onto Hermione's rune translation. Hermione, Harry and I leaned forward. Lying on top of the weird, spiky shapes were several long, ginger cat hairs.

**A/N: hey I'm sorry it took so long to update but the stupid exams are not done and they tale a lot of my time.**

**But you can make me happy again by clicking on review **


	9. Everything is ruined

**A/N:**

**Lady Featherweight****:**** Thanks for your review. I'm not going to tell if Aurora and Harry become a couple. You just have to read to find out. I'm telling you this, in this story (year 3) there isn't going to be any romans. Next year (my next story) there will be. So if you want to find out you will have to read the next story ;)**

**bloody alanna:** **Loved your review. Aurora and Harry aren't going to kiss in this story. Maybe in the next one ;) you are going the read the next one to find out. There will be some kissing in the next one.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything**

**Chapter 9: Everything is ruined **

It looked like the end of Ron and Hermione's friendship.

Each was so angry with the other that I couldn't see how they'd ever make up. Ron was enraged that Hermione had never taken Crookshanks's attempts to eat Scabbers seriously, hadn't bothered to keep a close enough watch on him, and was still trying to pretend that Crookshanks was innocent by suggesting that Ron look for Scabbers under all the boys' beds. Hermione, meanwhile, maintained fiercely that Ron had no proof that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers, that the ginger hairs might have been there since Christmas, and that Ron had been prejudiced against her cat ever since Crookshanks had landed on Ron's head in the Magical Menagerie.

Harry was sure that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers, and when he tried to point out to Hermione that the evidence all pointed that way, she lost her temper with Harry too.

"Okay, side with Ron, I knew you would!" she said shrilly. "First the Firebolt, now Scabbers, everything's my fault, isn't it! Just leave me alone, Harry, I've got a lot of work to do!"

Ron had taken the loss of his rat very hard indeed.

"Come on, Ron, you were always saying how boring Scabbers was," said Fred bracingly. "And he's been off-color for ages, he was wasting away. It was probably better for him to snuff it quickly — one swallow — he probably didn't feel a thing."

"Fred!" said Ginny indignantly.

"All he did was eat and sleep, Ron, you said it yourself," said George.

"He bit Goyle for us once!" Ron said miserably. "Remember, Harry?"

"Yeah, that's true," said Harry.

"His finest hour," said Fred, unable to keep a straight face. "Let the scar on Goyle's finger stand as a lasting tribute to his memory. Oh, come on, Ron, get yourself down to Hogsmeade and buy a new rat, what's the point of moaning?"

In a last-ditch attempt to cheer Ron up, Harry persuaded him to come along to the Gryffindor team's final practice before the Ravenclaw match, so that he could have a ride on the Firebolt after they'd finished. This did seem to take Ron's mind off Scabbers for a moment ("Great! Can I try and shoot a few goals on it?") so they set off for the Quidditch field together.

I stayed in the common room. I wasn't allowed to go outside anymore. I saw Hermione sitting at her table again and went to her. She was buried in her work again. Seriously, that girl is trying to kill herself. I can't believe she can keep up. I know she's brilliant but this is too much for a person, even for her.

"Hey, how are you holding up?" I asked her.

She looked up. I took in a breath, she was looking bad. Circles under her eyes, she looked so tired.

"I'm fine, but Aurora, if you don't mind, I really want to finish this, so if you would leave me alone," she said.

"Ok, that's it. I don't care you have still some work to do, but you are going to bed, right now young Lady! No arguments and I don't want to hear a no. Close those books and upstairs with you!"

I took a hold of her books and closed them. She spluttered but I was looking stern at her. I was not taking a no for an answer. She looked at me and sighed. She took her books in her arms, smiled at me and said thank you. She went upstairs and I followed. I wanted to make sure that she went to bed. I kept an eye on her for an hour or so and when I was sure she was sleeping I went back downstairs. I took out my homework and waited for the boys to come back.

When they got back, Harry was looking pale and Ron was looking angry.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Crookshanks," Ron said and he went to the stairs. "I'm going to bed."

"Harry?"

"It's probably nothing, but I thought I saw the Grim. It's silly, I know," He said.

"Your right, it was probably nothing just a trick of the light. Go to bed, you've got a big game tomorrow. You need to rest. Goodnight." I told him. I went to him give him a kiss on the cheek and went to bed.

When I was lying in my bed, I couldn't help thinking about what Harry said. The Grim, here, it can't be. There's no way he could get here, but on the other side, he knows how to…

I'm being silly, there's no way. I turned so I was lying on my side and fell asleep.

Harry came down to breakfast the next morning with the rest of the boys in his dormitory, all of whom seemed to think the Firebolt deserved a sort of guard of honor. As Harry entered the Great Hall, heads turned in the direction of the Firebolt, and there was a good deal of excited muttering. I saw, with enormous satisfaction, that the Slytherin team were all looking thunderstruck.

"Did you see his face?" said Ron gleefully, looking back at Malfoy. "He can't believe it! This is brilliant!"

Wood, too, was basking in the reflected glory of the Firebolt.

"Put it here, Harry," he said, laying the broom in the middle of the table and carefully turning it so that its name faced upward. People from the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were soon coming over to look. Cedric Diggory came over to congratulate Harry on having acquired such a superb replacement for his Nimbus, and Percy's Ravenclaw girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater, asked if she could actually hold the Firebolt.

"Now, now, Penny, no sabotage!" said Percy heartily as she examined the Firebolt closely. "Penelope and I have got a bet on," he told the team. "Ten Galleons on the outcome of the match!"

Penelope put the Firebolt down again, thanked Harry, and went back to her table.

"Harry — make sure you win," said Percy, in an urgent whisper. "I haven't got ten Galleons.

Yes, I'm coming, Penny!" And he bustled off to join her in a piece of toast.

"Sure you can manage that broom, Potter?" said a cold, drawling voice.

Draco Malfoy had arrived for a closer look, Crabbe and Goyle right behind him.

"Yeah, reckon so," said Harry casually.

"Got plenty of special features, hasn't it?" said Malfoy, eyes glittering maliciously. "Shame it doesn't come with a parachute — in case you get too near a Dementor."

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered.

"Pity you can't attach an extra arm to yours, Malfoy," said Harry. "Then it could catch the Snitch for you."

The Gryffindor team laughed loudly. Malfoy's pale eyes narrowed, and he stalked away. We watched him rejoin the rest of the Slytherin team, who put their heads together, no doubt asking Malfoy whether Harry's broom really was a Firebolt.

At a quarter to eleven, the Gryffindor team set off for the locker rooms.

"Good luck Harry," I said smiling, "I know you will be great!"

He turned around and give me a smile, he mouthed thank you.

The weather couldn't have been more different from their match against Hufflepuff. It was a clear, cool day with a very light breeze; there would be no visibility problems this time, and I, though nervous, was starting to feel the excitement only a Quidditch match could bring. I went to the stadium with Ron. Ron was really excited but I was feeling anxious. I think I was wondering if there was going to be any Dementors today. I was really hoping that they wouldn't show up, I don't think I would survive another attack from them. We took place and waited for the game to begin. I triple checked if I had my wand with me, just in case and I know that Harry has his with him to. Not that I was going to be a great help because I couldn't do the Patronus charm, but hey, you never know, a miracle can always happen. There is something called Magic you know.

The team walked out onto the field to tumultuous applause. The Ravenclaw team, dressed in blue, were already standing in the middle of the field. Their Seeker, Cho Chang, was the only girl on their team. She was shorter than Harry by about a head. Wood and the Ravenclaw Captain shook hands, they mounted there brooms, there was a whistle and of they went.

I could see Harry kicking off into the air and he zoomed higher and faster than any other player; he soared around the stadium and began squinting around for the Snitch. I was watching him like a hawk, he's really a good flyer, listening all the while to the commentary, which was being provided by the Weasley twins' friend Lee Jordan.

"They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt that Harry Potter is flying for Gryffindor. According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship —"

"Jordan, would you mind telling us what's going on in the match?" interrupted Professor McGonagall's voice.

"Right you are, Professor — just giving a bit of background information — the Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in auto-brake and —"

"Jordan!"

"Okay, okay, Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor, heading for goal…"

The game was really good, but I felt some anger for Cho, the seeker from Ravenclaw. What's her problem. She kept cutting across Harry, so he was forced to change direction and she kept following him. She was really getting on my nerves.

Harry rounded the Ravenclaw goal posts and Cho fell behind. Just as Katie succeeded in scoring the first goal of the match, and the Gryffindor end of the field went wild, I saw it — the Snitch was close to the ground, flitting near one of the barriers. I could tell that Harry saw it to. Wait a minute, how is it that I could spot he snitch. Wauw, I'm good. I grinned.

"Come on Harry!" I yelled.

Harry dived; Cho saw what he was doing and tore after him — Harry was speeding up, I was really getting excited, I stood up so I could see it better.

Then a Bludger, hit by one of the Ravenclaw Beaters, came pelting out of nowhere; Harry had to veer off course, avoiding it by an inch, and in those few, crucial seconds, the Snitch had vanished.

There was a great "Ooooooh" of disappointment from the Gryffindor supporters, but much applause for their Beater from the Ravenclaw end. George Weasley vented his feelings by hitting the second Bludger directly at the offending Beater, who was forced to roll right over in midair to avoid it.

"Gryffindor leads by eighty points to zero, and look at that Firebolt go! Potter's really putting it through its paces now, see it turn — Chang's Comet is just no match for it, the Firebolt's precision — balance is really noticeable in these long —"

"JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!"

Ravenclaw was pulling back; they had now scored three goals, which put Gryffindor only fifty points ahead — if Cho got the Snitch before Harry, Ravenclaw would win. Harry dropped lower, narrowly avoiding a Ravenclaw Chaser, scanning the field frantically, I was looking to, I spotted it before, I could do it again — a glint of gold, a flutter of tiny wings — the Snitch was circling the Gryffindor goal post…

Harry accelerated, eyes fixed on the speck of gold ahead — but just then, Cho appeared out of thin air, blocking him —

"Argh, stupid Cho, why did she do that, come on," I said. I really started to hate that girl.

The Snitch had vanished again. Harry turned his Firebolt upward and was soon twenty feet above the game. I saw that Cho was following him. Come on Harry, I thought, show her what you can.

Harry dived again, and Cho, thinking he'd seen the Snitch, tried to follow; Harry pulled out of the dive very sharply; she hurtled downward; he rose fast as a bullet once more. He accelerated; so, many feet below, did Cho. He was winning, gaining on the Snitch with every second — then —

I was holding my breath, he was going to get the snitch, we were going to win.

"Oh!" screamed Lavender, who was the row below me, pointing.

Distracted, I looked down. Three Dementors, three tall, black, hooded Dementors, were looking up at Harry.

I didn't stop to think. Plunging a hand down into my robes, he whipped out my wand and I run down so I was closer and have a better aim and roared, "Expecto patronum!" I could hear someone else yelling it to.

Something silver-white, something enormous, erupted from the end of my wand.

It shot directly at the Dementors and was soon joined by another, I could see it really good, but I thought I saw two big animals; my mind was still miraculously clear, I looked up and saw that Harry was grabbing the snitch.

Madam Hooch's whistle sounded. Harry turned around in midair and six scarlet blurs bearing down on him; next moment, the whole team was hugging him so hard he was nearly pulled off his broom. I could hear the roars of the Gryffindors in the crowd. I was standing there, yelling and clapping like crazy, we won!

I saw a gaggle of Gryffindor supporters sprinting onto the field, Ron in the lead. Before Harry knew it, he had been engulfed by the cheering crowd. I didn't follow, I will see him later.

I turned around to look if the Dementors were really gone. What I saw made me laugh so hard, I could hardly stand. This was hilarious!

Lying in a crumpled heap on the ground were Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcus Flint, the Slytherin team Captain, all struggling to remove themselves from long, black, hooded robes. It looked as though Malfoy had been standing on Goyle's shoulders.

Standing over them, with an expression of the utmost fury on her face, was Professor McGonagall.

"An unworthy trick!" she was shouting. "A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin! I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake! Ah, here he comes now!"

When I turned around, I saw Harry and uncle Moony, standing a few feet behind me. Harry was laughing to.

If anything could have set the seal on Gryffindor's victory, it was this. Ron, who had fought his way through to Harry's side, doubled up with laughter as they watched Malfoy fighting to extricate himself from the robe, Goyle's head still stuck inside it.

I went to them and give Harry a hug.

"Good game, Harry, you were amazing!"

"Thanks Aurora," he said smiling.

"Come on, Harry!" said George, fighting his way over. "Party! Gryffindor common room, now!"

"Right," said Harry, and feeling happier than I had in ages, we and the rest of the team led the way, still in their scarlet robes, out of the stadium and back up to the castle.

It felt as though wehad already won the Quidditch Cup; the party went on all day and well into the night. Fred and George Weasley disappeared for a couple of hours and returned with armfuls of bottles of butterbeer, pumpkin fizz, and several bags full of Honeydukes sweets.

"How did you do that?" squealed Angelina Johnson as George started throwing Peppermint Toads into the crowd.

"With a little help from Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," Fred muttered in my ear.

I can't believe that they hadn't figured it out already, but then again, boys, not so very bright.

Only one person wasn't joining in the festivities. Hermione, incredibly, was sitting in a corner, attempting to read an enormous book entitled Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles. I broke away from the table where Fred and George had started juggling butterbeer bottles and went over to her.

"Did you even come to the match?" I asked her.

"Of course I did," said Hermione in a strangely high-pitched voice, not looking up. "And I'm very glad we won, and I think Harry did really well, but I need to read this by Monday."

Harry came and went to stand next to me.

"Come on, Hermione, come and have some food," Harry said, looking over at Ron. I was wondering whether he was in a good enough mood to bury the hatchet.

"I can't, Harry. I've still got four hundred and twenty-two pages to read!" said Hermione, now sounding slightly hysterical. "Anyway…" She glanced over at Ron too. "He doesn't want me to join

in."

There was no arguing with this, as Ron chose that moment to say loudly, "If Scabbers hadn't just been eaten, he could have had some of those Fudge Flies. He used to really like them —"

Hermione burst into tears. Before I could say or do anything, she tucked the enormous book under her arm, and, still sobbing, ran toward the staircase to the girls' dormitories and out of sight.

"Can't you give her a break?" Harry asked Ron quietly.

"No," said Ron flatly. "If she just acted like she was sorry — but she'll never admit she's wrong, Hermione. She's still acting like Scabbers has gone on vacation or something."

"Can't you see you are hurting her? Don't you have any emotions at all?" I asked him.

He ignored me. I was really fed up with him. I gave him a glare, smiled at Harry and went to sit with Neville, the only one from my year that doesn't hate me.

The Gryffindor party ended only when Professor McGonagall turned up in her tartan dressing gown and hair net at one in the morning, to insist that we all go to bed. I climbed the stairs to my dormitory, with Lavender and Parvati following me. I checked on Hermione, but she was fast asleep. I took the book from her chest, marked the page and put it on her bedside table. At last, exhausted, I climbed into bed, twitched the hangings of my four-poster shut to block out a ray of moonlight, lay back, and felt myself almost instantly drifting off to sleep…

"AAARRGGHH! NOOO!"

I shot up in my bed. What the hell? I could see that the others didn't hear anything. Maybe It was in my dreams. I let myself fall back again. I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn't. I climbed out of the bed and went to the stairs, that's when I heard shouts and talking. I ran down the stairs and saw Harry coming down the same time as me. The others boys close behind him

Doors opened behind them, and sleepy voices called after them.

"Who shouted?"

"What're you doing?"

The common room was lit with the glow of the dying fire, still littered with the debris from the party. It was deserted.

"Are you sure you weren't dreaming, Ron?" Harry asked.

"I'm telling you, I saw him!"

"What's all the noise?"

"Professor McGonagall told us to go to bed!"

"What's going on?" I asked.

A few of the girls had come down our staircase, pulling on dressing gowns and yawning. Boys, too, were reappearing.

"Excellent, are we carrying on?" said Fred Weasley brightly.

"Everyone back upstairs!" said Percy, hurrying into the common room and pinning his Head Boy badge to his pajamas as he spoke.

"Perce — Sirius Black!" said Ron faintly. "In our dormitory! With a knife! Woke me up!"

The common room went very still. I paled and started shaking. This wasn't good.

"Nonsense!" said Percy, looking startled. "You had too much to eat, Ron — had a nightmare —"

"I'm telling you —"

"Now, really, enough's enough!"

Professor McGonagall was back. She slammed the portrait behind her as she entered the common room and stared furiously around.

"I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Percy, I expected better of you!"

"I certainly didn't authorize this, Professor!" said Percy, puffing himself up indignantly. "I was just telling them all to get back to bed! My brother Ron here had a nightmare —"

"IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE!" Ron yelled. "PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!"

Professor McGonagall stared at him.

"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley, how could he possibly have gotten through the portrait hole?"

"Ask him!" said Ron, pointing a shaking finger at the back of Sir Cadogan's picture. "Ask him if he saw —"

Glaring suspiciously at Ron, Professor McGonagall pushed the portrait back open and went outside. The whole common room listened with bated breath. "Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?"

"Certainly, good lady!" cried Sir Cadogan.

There was a stunned silence, both inside and outside the common room. I sank to my knees. This wasn't happening, it's just a dream.

"You — you did?" said Professor McGonagall. "But — but the password!"

"He had 'em!" said Sir Cadogan proudly. "Had the whole week's, my lady! Read 'em off a little piece of paper!"

Professor McGonagall pulled herself back through the portrait hole to face the stunned crowd. She was white as chalk.

"Which person," she said, her voice shaking, "which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week's passwords and left them lying around?"

There was utter silence, broken by the smallest of terrified squeaks. Neville Longbottom, trembling from head to fluffy slippered toes, raised his hand slowly into the air.

I felt someone sitting next to me and putting an arm around me.

"Come on." It was Hermione.

She helped me up and led me to the staircase. Everyone I passed, looked at me like I was something dirty. Everything was ruined, even the twins were glaring at me. Tears were rolling down my face. Hermione helped up the bed and sat next to me. She held me the whole night, comforting me. I cried the whole night. Everything was ruined.

**A/N: I'm sorry it took so long for me to update, but I was out, celebrating that my exams were over ;) **

**Hope you enjoyed it, and please let me know. So review! Thank you!**


	10. Hogsmeade

**A/N: Maximum Dusk: Thanks and your right. I didn't tell what Aurora's Patronus is. I want to keep it a secret and I want my reviewers to decided what the Patronus is going to be. **

**ATTENTION READERS: YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN TO HELP ME WITH THE STORY. YOU MAY CHOOSE WHAT AURORA'S PATRONUS IS GOING TO BE. JUST SAY IT IN YOUR REVIEW AND I WILL LET YOU KNOW WHEN I HAVE DECIDED! IF I DON'T GET ANY SUGGESTIONS I'M GOING TO CHOOSE? I HAVE ONE IN MY MIND BUT I WAS WONDERING WHAT YOU GUYS WOULD DECIDED.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter **

**Chapter 10: Hogsmeade**

No one in Gryffindor Tower slept that night. We knew that the castle was being searched again, and the whole House stayed awake in the common room, waiting to hear whether Black had been caught. I stayed in my bed, I didn't want to face the others. Especially Ron, I don't think he would want my company right now, or anyone else for that matter. Hermione stayed with me, not trusting me to be alone. Professor McGonagall came back at dawn, to tell us that he had again escaped. She tried to talk to be but I saved her the effort, I told her straight away that I didn't know anything and that I would tell her right away if I hear anything. She looked at me with sad eyes, said she was sorry and left.

First I wanted to stay in bed all day, but after seeing her and Hermione look at me with those eyes and telling me they were sorry, something snapped in me and I realized that sulking in my bed isn't going to change anything. So I got up, went to the bathroom and let the warm water clear my thoughts. I was going to show them I wasn't my father, I was going to class with my head held high and I wasn't going to take any crap from nobody. I'm done playing the nice chick, it's time they know the real Aurora Black.

I looked in the mirror and I was wondering what to do. With the new personality, I had to do something different with my hair. Normally I would just put it in a ponytail, but today I decided to let it down. The curls were falling down my back. Wow my hair grew longer than I realized. It almost reached my bum. The red highlights were really coming out like this. I feel good. With my head held high, I went back to the bedroom, got dressed and went downstairs. Hermione was waiting for me and together we went to breakfast. I was wondering where Harry was, but I think he's with Ron. After what has happened tonight, I would need a friend to.

Throughout the day, everywhere I went I saw signs of tighter security; Professor Flitwick could be seen teaching the front doors to recognize a large picture of Sirius Black; Filch was suddenly bustling up and down the corridors, boarding up everything from tiny cracks in the walls to mouse holes.

Sir Cadogan had been fired. His portrait had been taken back to its lonely landing on the seventh floor, and the Fat Lady was back. She had been expertly restored, but was still extremely nervous, and had agreed to return to her job only on condition that she was given extra protection. A bunch of surly security trolls had been hired to guard her. They paced the corridor in a menacing group, talking in grunts and comparing the size of their clubs.

I couldn't help noticing that the statue of the one-eyed witch on the third floor remained unguarded and unblocked. It seemed that Fred and George had been right in thinking that they — and now Harry, Ron, Hermione and I — were the only ones who knew about the hidden passageway within it.

"D'you reckon we should tell someone?" I asked Harry.

It turned out that Harry wasn't mad at me and still wanted to be me friend. I was relieved. I don't think I would survive if I only had Hermione to hang out with. She great and everything and I do love to read and I have nothing against homework and stuff, but really I need some fun to. People die without fun, believe me.

"We know he's not coming in through Honeyduke's," said Ron dismissively. "We'd've heard if the shop had been broken into."

Another shock. Ron wasn't mad at me to. He said that he saw my reaction yesterday and that he knew then that I didn't had anything to do with it. I was so relieved, I gave him a hug. He was so embarrassed after that. You should have seen his face, it was so funny.

I was glad Ron took this view. If the one-eyed witch was boarded up too, Harry and I would never be able to go into Hogsmeade again.

Ron had become an instant celebrity. For the first time in his life, people were paying more attention to him than to Harry, and it was clear that Ron was rather enjoying the experience. Though still severely shaken by the night's events, he was happy to tell anyone who asked what had happened, with a wealth of detail.

"… I was asleep, and I heard this ripping noise, and I thought it was in my dream, you know? But then there was this draft… I woke up and one side of the hangings on my bed had been pulled down… I rolled over… and I saw him standing over me… like a skeleton, with loads of filthy hair… holding this great long knife, must've been twelve inches… and he looked at me, and I looked at him, and then I yelled, and he scampered.

"Why, though?" Ron added to Harry and I as the group of second year girls who had been listening to his chilling tale departed. "Why did he run?"

I had been wondering the same thing. Why had he, having got the wrong bed, not silenced Ron and proceeded to Harry? He had proved twelve years ago that he didn't mind murdering innocent people, and this time he had been facing five unarmed boys, four of whom were asleep. I had a really bad feeling with this thought. I still had trouble believing that my dad did all that.

"He must've known he'd have a job getting back out of the castle once you'd yelled and woken people up," said Harry thoughtfully. "He'd've had to kill the whole house to get back through the portrait hole… then he would've met the teachers…"

Neville was in total disgrace. Professor McGonagall was so furious with him she had banned him from all future Hogsmeade visits, given him a detention, and forbidden anyone to give him the password into the tower. Poor Neville was forced to wait outside the common room every night for somebody to let him in, while the security trolls leered unpleasantly at him. I helped him as much as I good and he was really grateful for that. None of these punishments, however, came close to matching the one his grandmother had in store for him. Two days after Black's break-in, she sent Neville the very worst thing a Hogwarts student could receive over breakfast — a Howler.

The school owls swooped into the Great Hall carrying the mail as usual, and Neville choked as a huge barn owl landed in front of him, a scarlet envelope clutched in its beak. Harry and Ron, who were sitting opposite him, and, next to him, recognized the letter as a Howler at once.

"Run for it, Neville," Ron advised.

Neville didn't need telling twice. He seized the envelope, and holding it before him like a bomb, sprinted out of the hall, while the Slytherin table exploded with laughter at the sight of him. They heard the Howler go off in the entrance hall — Neville's grandmother's voice, magically magnified to a hundred times its usual volume, shrieking about how he had brought shame on the whole family.

Harry was too busy feeling sorry for Neville to notice immediately that he had a letter too. Hedwig got his attention by nipping him sharply on the wrist.

"Ouch! Oh — thanks, Hedwig."

Harry tore open the envelope while Hedwig helped herself to some of Neville's cornflakes.

The note inside said:

Dear Harry, Ron and Black,

How about having tea with me this afternoon 'round six? I'll come collect you from the castle. WAIT FOR ME IN THE ENTRANCE HALL; YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED OUT ON YOUR OWN.

Cheers,

Hagrid

"He probably wants to hear all about Black!" said Ron.

I was feeling sad, he used Black, not Aurora like he always did. He hated me to. But on the other hand, he did invite me, so something must be going on.

So at six o'clock that afternoon, we left Gryffindor Tower, passed the security trolls at a run, and headed down to the entrance hall.

Hagrid was already waiting for us.

"All right, Hagrid!" said Ron. "S'pose you want to hear about Saturday night, do you?"

"I've already heard all abou' it," said Hagrid, opening the front doors and leading them outside.

"Oh," said Ron, looking slightly put out.

The first thing they saw on entering Hagrid's cabin was Buckbeak, who was stretched out on top of Hagrid's patchwork quilt, his enormous wings folded tight to his body, enjoying a large plate of dead ferrets. Averting his eyes from this unpleasant sight, I saw a gigantic, hairy brown suit and a very horrible yellow-and-orange tie hanging from the top of Hagrid's wardrobe door.

"What are they for, Hagrid?" I asked.

"Buckbeak's case against the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures," said Hagrid. "This Friday. Him an' me'll be goin' down ter London together. I've booked two beds on the Knight Bus…"

I felt a nasty pang of guilt. I had completely forgotten that Buckbeak's trial was so near, and judging by the uneasy look on Harry's and Ron's face, they had too. We had also forgotten our promise about helping him prepare Buckbeak's defense; the arrival of the Firebolt and what had happened Saturday had driven it clean out of our minds.

Hagrid poured us tea and offered them a plate of Bath buns but we knew better than to accept; Harry and Ron had had too much experience with Hagrid's cooking and they had warned me all about it.

"I got somethin' ter discuss with you three," said Hagrid, sitting himself between them and looking uncharacteristically serious.

"What?" said Harry.

"Hermione," said Hagrid.

"What about her?" said Ron.

"She's in a righ' state, that's what. She's bin comin' down ter visit me a lot since Chris'mas. Bin feelin' lonely. Firs' yeh weren' talking to her because o' the Firebolt, now yer not talkin' to her because her cat —"

"– ate Scabbers!" Ron interjected angrily.

"Because her cat acted like all cats do," Hagrid continued doggedly. "She's cried a fair few times, yeh know. Goin' through a rough time at the moment. Bitten off more'n she can chew, if yeh ask me, all the work she's tryin' ter do. Still found time ter help me with Buckbeak's case, mind… She's found some really good stuff fer me… reckon he'll stand a good chance now…"

"Hagrid, we should've helped as well — sorry —" Harry began awkwardly.

"I'm not blamin' yeh!" said Hagrid, waving Harry's apology aside. "Gawd knows yeh've had enough ter be getting' on with. I've seen yeh practicin' Quidditch ev'ry hour o' the day an' night — but I gotta tell yeh, I thought you two'd value yer friend more'n broomsticks or rats. Tha's all."

"I talk to her!" I said.

Hagrid just looked at me.

Harry and Ron exchanged uncomfortable looks.

"Really upset, she was, when Black nearly stabbed yeh, Ron. She's got her heart in the right place, Hermione has, an' you two not talkin' to her —"

"If she'd just get rid of that cat, I'd speak to her again!" Ron said angrily. "But she's still sticking up for it! It's a maniac, and she won't hear a word against it!"

"Ah, well, people can be a bit stupid abou' their pets," said Hagrid wisely.

"You can't abandon her because her cat eat scabbers Ron, what kind of friendship is that? I told you this like a million times already!" I said to Ron.

Ron ignored me. Really what is it with these people! Harry shot me a look, one that said I shouldn't worry about it to much.

Behind me, Buckbeak spat a few ferret bones onto Hagrid's pillow.

We spent the rest of our visit discussing Gryffindor's improved chances for the Quidditch Cup. At nine o'clock, Hagrid walked us back up to the castle. I could tell he warmed up to me, because he smiled at me and it wasn't a fake smile.

A large group of people was bunched around the bulletin board when we returned to the common room.

"Hogsmeade, next weekend!" said Ron, craning over the heads to read the new notice. "What d'you reckon?" he added quietly to Harry and me as we went to sit down.

"Well, Filch hasn't done anything about the passage into Honeydukes…" Harry said, even more quietly.

"Aurora!" said a voice in my right ear. I started and looked around at Hermione, who was sitting at the table right behind us and clearing a space in the wall of books that had been hiding her.

"Aurora, if you go into Hogsmeade again… I'll tell Professor McGonagall about that map!" said Hermione.

"Can you hear someone talking, Aurora?" growled Ron, not looking at Hermione.

"Ron, how can you let them go with you? After what Sirius Black nearly did to you! I mean it, I'll tell —"

"So now you're trying to get Harry and Aurora expelled!" said Ron furiously. "Haven't you done enough damage this year?"

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but with a soft hiss, Crookshanks leapt onto her lap. Hermione took one frightened look at the expression on Ron's face, gathered up Crookshanks, and hurried away toward the girls' dormitories.

"Ron, you really shouldn't be that hard on her, she's a human to, you know." I said to Ron. Again he ignored. Aargh, really what is it with this guy.

"So how about it?" Ron said to Harry and me as though there had been no interruption. "Come on, last time we went you didn't see anything. You haven't even been inside Zonko's yet!"

Harry looked around to check that Hermione was well out of earshot.

"Okay," he said. "But I'm taking the Invisibility Cloak this time. You coming?" he asked me.

"Can we fit under that cloak?" I grinned at him. He grinned back.

On Saturday morning, I went down to breakfast with everyone else. I sat with Hermione this time and I convinced her that I wasn't going. Hermione kept shooting suspicious looks down the table at Harry, but he avoided her eye and was careful to let her see him walking back up the marble staircase in the entrance hall as everybody else proceeded to the front doors. He walked to him and together we said goodbye to the others.

"Bye!" Harry called to Ron. "See you when you get back!"

Ron grinned and winked.

Harry and I hurried up to the third floor, Harry slipping the Marauder's Map out of his pocket as he went. Crouching behind the one-eyed witch, he smoothed it out. A tiny dot was moving in our direction. I squinted at it. The minuscule writing next to it read Neville Longbottom.

I quickly pulled out my wand, muttered, "Dissendium!" and shoved my bag into the statue, Harry climbed in but before I could climb in myself, Neville came around the corner.

"Aurora! I forgot you weren't going to Hogsmeade either!"

"Hi, Neville," I said, moving swiftly away from the statue. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing," shrugged Neville. "Want a game of Exploding Snap?"

"Er — not now — I was going to go to the library and do that vampire essay for Lupin —"

"I'll come with you!" said Neville brightly. "I haven't done it either!"

"Er — hang on — yeah, I forgot, I finished it last night!"

"Great, you can help me!" said Neville, his round face anxious. "I don't understand that thing about the garlic at all — do they have to eat it, or —"

He broke off with a small gasp, looking over my shoulder.

It was Snape. Neville took a quick step behind me.

"And what are you two doing here?" said Snape, coming to a halt and looking from one to the other. "An odd place to meet —"

To my immense disquiet, Snape's black eyes flicked to the doorways on either side of them, and then to the one-eyed witch.

"We're not — meeting here," I said. "We just — met here."

"Indeed?" said Snape. "You have a habit of turning up in unexpected places, Black, and you are very rarely there for no good reason… I suggest the pair of you return to Gryffindor Tower, where you belong."

Neville and I set off without another word. As we turned the corner, I looked back. Snape was running one of his hands over the one-eyed witch's head, examining it closely.

I managed to shake Neville off at the Fat Lady by telling him the password, then pretending I'd left my vampire essay in the library and doubling back.

I sprinted back to the one-eyed witch, opened her hump, heaved myself inside, and slid down to meet my bag at the bottom of the stone chute. Harry stood there waiting for me.

"What took you so long?" he asked.

"Snape," I said, and we took off.

Completely hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak, we emerged into the sunlight outside Honeydukes and prodded Ron in the back.

"It's us," Harry muttered.

"What kept you?" Ron hissed.

"Snape was hanging around."

We set off up the High Street.

"Where are you?" Ron kept muttering out of the corner of his mouth. "Are you still there? This feels weird…"

We went to the post office; Ron pretended to be checking the price of an owl to Bill in Egypt so that Harry and I could have a good look around. The owls sat hooting softly down at us, at least three hundred of them; from Great Grays right down to tiny little Scops owls ("Local Deliveries Only"), which were so small they could have sat in the palm of my hand.

Then we visited Zonko's, which was so packed with students Harry and I had to exercise great care not to tread on anyone and cause a panic. There were jokes and tricks to fulfill even Fred's and George's wildest dreams; Harry and I gave Ron whispered orders and passed him some gold from under the cloak. We left Zonko's with our money bags considerably lighter than they had been on entering, but our pockets bulging with Dungbombs, Hiccup Sweets, Frog Spawn Soap, and a Nose-Biting Teacup apiece.

The day was fine and breezy, and neither of us felt like staying indoors, so we walked past the Three Broomsticks and climbed a slope to visit the Shrieking Shack, the most haunted dwelling in Britain. It stood a little way above the rest of the village, and even in daylight was slightly creepy, with its boarded windows and dank overgrown garden.

"Even the Hogwarts ghosts avoid it," said Ron as we leaned on the fence, looking up at it. "I asked Nearly Headless Nick… he says he's heard a very rough crowd lives here. No one can get in. Fred and George tried, obviously, but all the entrances are sealed shut…"

I was feeling hot from our climb and was just considering taking off the cloak for a few minutes when we heard voices nearby. Someone was climbing toward the house from the other side of the hill; moments later, Malfoy had appeared, followed closely by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy was speaking.

"… should have an owl from Father any time now. He had to go to the hearing to tell them about my arm… about how I couldn't use it for three months…"

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered.

"I really wish I could hear that great hairy moron trying to defend himself… 'There's no 'arm in 'im, 'onest —'… That Hippogriff's as good as dead —"

Malfoy suddenly caught sight of Ron. His pale face split in a malevolent grin.

"What are you doing, Weasley?"

Malfoy looked up at the crumbling house behind Ron.

"Suppose you'd love to live here, wouldn't you, Weasley? Dreaming about having your own bedroom? I heard your family all sleep in one room — is that true?"

Harry seized the back of Ron's robes to stop him from leaping on Malfoy.

"Leave him to me," he hissed in Ron's ear.

"He's not worth it!" I hissed.

The opportunity was too perfect to miss. Harry nudged me and we crept silently around behind Malfoy, Crabbe, andGoyle, bent down, and Harry scooped a large handful of mud out of the path.

"We were just discussing your friend Hagrid," Malfoy said to Ron. "Just trying to imagine what he's saying to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. D'you think he'll cry when they cut off his Hippogriff's —"

SPLAT!

Malfoy's head jerked forward as the mud hit him; his silverblond hair was suddenly dripping in muck.

"What the —?"

Ron had to hold onto the fence to keep himself standing, he was laughing so hard. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle spun stupidly on the spot, staring wildly around, Malfoy trying to wipe his hair clean.

I was trying so hard not to laugh out loud, I was having trouble breathing. Harry wasn't that much better.

"What was that? Who did that?"

"Very haunted up here, isn't it?" said Ron, with the air of one commenting on the weather.

Crabbe and Goyle were looking scared. Their bulging muscles were no use against ghosts. Malfoy was staring madly around at the deserted landscape.

Harry and me sneaked along the path, where a particularly sloppy puddle yielded some foul-smelling, green sludge.

SPLATTER!

Crabbe and Goyle caught some this time. Goyle hopped furiously on the spot, trying to rub it out of his small, dull eyes.

"It came from over there!" said Malfoy, wiping his face, and staring at a spot some six feet to the left of Harry and me.

Crabbe blundered forward, his long arms outstretched like a zombie. Harry and I dodged around him, picked up a stick, and lobbed it at Crabbe's back. Harry and I doubled up with silent laughter as Crabbe did a kind of pirouette in midair, trying to see who had thrown it. As Ron was the only person Crabbe could see, it was Ron he started toward, but Harry stuck out his leg. Crabbe stumbled — and his huge, flat foot caught the hem of Harry's cloak. Harry felt a great tug, then the cloak slid off his face. I was luckily still covered.

For a split second, Malfoy stared at Harry.

"AAARGH!" he yelled, pointing at Harry's head. Then he turned tail and ran, at breakneck speed, back down the hill, Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

Harry tugged the cloak up again, but the damage was done.

"Harry!" Ron said, stumbling forward and staring hopelessly at the point where Harry had disappeared, "you'd better run for it! If Malfoy tells anyone — you'd better get back to the castle, quick —"

"See you later," said Harry, and without another word, we tore back down the path toward Hogsmeade.

Would Malfoy believe what he had seen? Would anyone believe Malfoy? Nobody knew about the Invisibility Cloak — nobody except Dumbledore. My stomach turned over — Dumbledore would know exactly what had happened, if Malfoy said anything —

Back into Honeydukes, back down the cellar steps, across the stone floor, through the trapdoor — Harry pulled off the cloak, tucked it under his arm, and we ran, flat out, along the passage… Malfoy would get back first… how long would it take him to find a teacher? Panting, a sharp pain in my side, I didn't slow down until we reached the stone slide. Harry would have to leave the cloak where it was, it was too much of a giveaway in case Malfoy had tipped off a teacher —

Harry hid it in a shadowy corner, I was already half way up. I climbed fast as I could, my sweaty hands slipping on the sides of the chute. I reached the inside of the witch's hump, tapped it with my wand, stuck my head through, and hoisted myself out; the hump closed, and just as Harry jumped out from behind the statue, I heard quick footsteps approaching.

It was Snape.

He approached Harry and I at a swift walk, his black robes swishing, then stopped in front of us.

"So," he said.

There was a look of suppressed triumph about him. Harry and I tried to look innocent, all too aware of our sweaty face and his muddy hands, which Harry quickly hid in his pockets.

"Come with me, Potter, Black," said Snape.

Harry and I followed him downstairs, trying to wipe my hands clean on the inside of my robes without Snape noticing. We walked down the stairs to the dungeons and then into Snape's office.

I had never been in here. Snape had slimy horrible things in his office, all standing on shelves behind his desk, glinting in the firelight and adding to the threatening atmosphere.

"Sit," said Snape.

Harry an I sat. Snape, however, remained, standing.

"Mr. Malfoy has just been to see me with a strange story, Potter," said Snape.

Harry didn't say anything. I just looked curious.

"He tells me that he was up by the Shrieking Shack when he ran into Weasley — apparently alone."

Still, Harry didn't speak.

"Mr. Malfoy states that he was standing talking to Weasley, when a large amount of mud hit him in the back of the head. How do you think that could have happened?"

Harry tried to look mildly surprised. I just looked surprised. Did I mention I had a lot of practice?

"I don't know, Professor."

Snape's eyes were boring into Harry's. It was exactly like trying to stare down a Hippogriff. Harry tried hard not to blink.

"Mr. Malfoy then saw an extraordinary apparition. Can you imagine what it might have been, Potter?"

"No," said Harry, now trying to sound innocently curious. Trying was the key word. I think I'm going to have to teach him how he should to it.

"It was your head, Potter. Floating in midair."

There was a long silence.

"Maybe he'd better go to Madam Pomfrey," said Harry. "If he's seeing things like —"

"What would your head have been doing in Hogsmeade, Potter?" said Snape softly. "Your head is not allowed in Hogsmeade. No part of your body has permission to be in Hogsmeade."

"I know that," said Harry, striving to keep his face free of guilt or fear. "It sounds like Malfoy's having hallucin —"

"Malfoy is not having hallucinations," snarled Snape, and he bent down, a hand on each arm of Harry's chair, so that their faces were a foot apart. "If your head was in Hogsmeade, so was the rest of you."

"I've been up in Gryffindor Tower," said Harry. "Like you told —"

"Can anyone confirm that?"

Harry didn't say anything. Snape's thin mouth curled into a horrible smile.

"I can!" I said.

Snape turned to me.

"Really now, and pray tell, what have you been doing?"

"we've been running outside, hence the sweat. I'm really sorry sire if we smell bad, but we were just on our way to the common room to take a shower." I said as confident I could.

He just sneered at me and I could see in his eyes that he didn't believe me.

"I went to school with your father, Black, you are just like him. A criminal!"

My mouth fell open. Oh no, he did not just went there.

"So," he said, straightening up again. "Everyone from the Minister of Magic downward has been trying to keep famous Harry Potter safe from Sirius Black. But famous Harry Potter is a law unto himself. Let the ordinary people worry about his safety! Famous Harry Potter goes where he wants to, with no thought for the consequences."

Harry stayed silent. Snape was trying to provoke him into telling the truth. Snape had no proof — yet.

"How extraordinarily like your father you are, Potter," Snape said suddenly, his eyes glinting. "He too was exceedingly arrogant. A small amount of talent on the Quidditch field made him think he was a cut above the rest of us too. Strutting around the place with his friends and admirers… The resemblance between you is uncanny.

"My dad didn't strut," said Harry. "And neither do I."

"Your father didn't set much store by rules either," Snape went on, pressing his advantage, his thin face full of malice. "Rules were for lesser mortals, not Quidditch Cup-winners. His head was so swollen —"

"SHUT UP!"

Harry was suddenly on his feet. I could feel the rage come off him. I wasn't in a better state. I was angry to, how could he say that to Harry and to me?

"What did you say to me, Potter?"

"I told you to shut up about my dad!" Harry yelled. "I know the truth, all right? He saved your life! Dumbledore told me! You wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for my dad!"

Snape's sallow skin had gone the color of sour milk.

"And did the headmaster tell you the circumstances in which your father saved my life?" he whispered. "Or did he consider the details too unpleasant for precious Potter's delicate ears? Or your ears Black. Has he told you what really happened between your father and me?"

I bit my lip. I didn't know what had happened and didn't want to admit it — but Snape seemed to have guessed the truth.

"I would hate for you to run away with a false idea of your father, Potter," he said, a terrible grin twisting his face. "Have you been imagining some act of glorious heroism? Then let me correct you — your saintly father and his friends played a highly amusing joke on me that would have resulted in my death if your father hadn't got cold feet at the last moment. There was nothing brave about what he did. He was saving his own skin as much as mine. Had their joke succeeded, he would have been expelled from Hogwarts, the same would happen to your father Black. He was a criminal in his youth and he stayed a criminal."

Snape's uneven, yellowish teeth were bared.

"Turn out your pockets, Potter!" he spat suddenly.

Harry didn't move. Neither did I.

"Turn out your pockets, or we go straight to the headmaster! Pull them out, Potter!"

Filled with cold dread, I saw Harry slowly pulled out the bag of Zonko's tricks and the Marauder's Map.

Snap picked up the Zonko's bag.

"Ron gave them to me," said Harry, I prayed that we'd get a chance to tip Ron off before Snape saw him. "He brought them back from Hogsmeade last time —"

"Indeed? And you've been carrying them around ever since? How very touching… and what is this?"

Snape had picked up the map. I tried with all my might to keep my face impassive.

"Spare bit of parchment," Harry said with a shrug.

Snape turned it over, his eyes on Harry.

"Surely you don't need such a very old piece of parchment?" he said. "Why don't I just — throw this away?"

His hand moved toward the fire.

"No!" Harry an I said quickly.

"So!" said Snape, his long nostrils quivering. "Is this another treasured gift from Mr. Weasley? Or is it — something else? A letter, perhaps, written in invisible ink? Or — instructions to get into Hogsmeade without passing the Dementors?"

Harry blinked. I narrowed my eyes. Snape's eyes gleamed.

"Let me see, let me see…" he muttered, taking out his wand and smoothing the map out on his desk. "Reveal your secret!" he said, touching the wand to the parchment.

Nothing happened. I clenched my hands to stop them from shaking.

"Show yourself!" Snape said, tapping the map sharply.

It stayed blank. Harry was taking deep, calming breaths. I was trying to keep myself calm to.

"Professor Severus Snape, master of this school, commands you to yield the information you conceal!" Snape said, hitting the map with his wand.

As though an invisible hand were writing upon it, words appeared on the smooth surface of the map.

"Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business."

Snape froze. Harry stared, dumbstruck, at the message. My mouth twitched. But the map didn't stop there. More writing was appearing beneath the first.

"Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Mooney and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git."

It would have been very funny if the situation hadn't been so serious. And there was more…

"Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor."

Harry closed his eyes and I had to do really my best not to burst out in laughter.

"Mr. Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball."

I waited for the blow to fall.

"So…" said Snape softly. "We'll see about this…"

He strode across to his fire, seized a fistful of glittering powder from a jar on the fireplace, and threw it into the flames.

"Lupin!" Snape called into the fire. "I want a word!"

A large shape had appeared in it, revolving very fast. Seconds later, uncle Moony was clambering out of the fireplace, brushing ash off his shabby robes.

"You called, Severus?" said uncle Moony mildly.

"I certainly did," said Snape, his face contorted with fury as he strode back to his desk. "I have just asked Potter to empty his pockets. He was carrying this."

Snape pointed at the parchment, on which the words of Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs were still shining. An odd, closed expression appeared onuncle Moony's face.

"Well?" said Snape.

Uncle Moony continued to stare at the map. I had the impression that uncle Moony was doing some very quick thinking.

"Well?" said Snape again. "This parchment is plainly full of Dark Magic. This is supposed to be your area of expertise, Lupin. Where do you imagine Potter got such a thing?"

Uncle Moony looked up and, by the merest half-glance in Harry's and my direction, warned us not to interrupt.

"Full of Dark Magic?" he repeated mildly. "Do you really think so, Severus? It looks to me as though it is merely a piece of parchment that insults anybody who reads it. Childish, but surely not dangerous? I imagine Harry got it from a joke shop —"

"Indeed?" said Snape. His jaw had gone rigid with anger. "You think a joke shop could supply him with such a thing? You don't think it more likely that he got it directly from the manufacturers?"

I didn't understand what Snape was talking about. Nor, apparently, did uncle Moony.

"You mean, by Mr. Wormtail or one of these people?" he said. "Harry, do you know any of these men?"

"No," said Harry quickly.

"You see, Severus?" said uncle Moony, turning back to Snape. "It looks like a Zonko's product to me —"

Right on cue, Ron came bursting into the office. He was completely out of breath, and stopped just short of Snape's desk, clutching the stitch in his chest and trying to speak.

"I — gave — Harry – and - Aurora — that — stuff," he choked. "Bought — it… in Zonko's… ages — ago…"

"Well!" said uncle Moony, clapping his hands together and looking around cheerfully. "That seems to clear that up! Severus, I'll take this back, shall I?" He folded the map and tucked it inside his robes. "Harry, Ron, Aurora come with me, I need a word about my vampire essay — excuse us, Severus —"

I didn't dare look at Snape as they left his office. Harry, Ron, uncle Moony and me walked all the way back into the entrance hall before speaking. Then Harry turned to Lupin.

"Professor, I —"

"I don't want to hear explanations," said uncle Moony shortly.

He glanced around the empty entrance hall and lowered his voice. "I happen to know that this map was confiscated by Mr. Filch many years ago. Yes, I know it's a map," he said as Harry and Ron looked amazed. "I don't want to know how it fell into your possession. I am, however, astounded that you didn't hand it in. Especially you Aurora, you know better! Particularly after what happened the last time a student left information about the castle lying around. And I can't let you have it back, Harry."

I had expected that, and Harry appeared was too keen for explanations to protest.

"Why did Snape think I'd got it from the manufacturers?"

"Because…" uncle Moony hesitated, "because these mapmakers would have wanted to lure you out of school. They'd think it extremely entertaining."

"Do you know them?" said Harry, impressed.

"We've met," he said shortly. I snorted at that moment. They've met? Yeah right.

He was looking at Harry more seriously than ever before.

"Don't expect me to cover up for you again, Harry. I cannot make you take Sirius Black seriously. But I would have thought that what you have heard when the Dementors draw near you would have had more of an effect on you. Your parents gave their lives to keep you alive, Harry. A poor way to repay them — gambling their sacrifice for a bag of magic tricks. Aurora, you and I are going to have talk soon!"

He walked away, leaving me feeling worse by far than he had at any point in Snape's office. Slowly, we mounted the marble staircase. As we passed the one-eyed witch, I remembered the Invisibility Cloak — it was still down there, but I didn't dare go and get it.

"It's my fault," said Ron abruptly. "I persuaded you to go. Lupin's right, it was stupid, we shouldn't've done it —"

He broke off; they reached the corridor where the security trolls were pacing, and Hermione was walking toward us. One look at her face convinced me that she had heard what had happened. My heart plummeted — had she told Professor McGonagall?

"Come to have a good gloat?" said Ron savagely as she stopped in front of them. "Or have you just been to tell on us?"

"No," said Hermione. She was holding a letter in her hands and her lip was trembling. "I just thought you ought to know… Hagrid lost his case. Buckbeak is going to be executed."


	11. The final match

**A/N: I don't own anything**

**Chapter 11: The final match**

"He sent me this," Hermione said, holding out the letter.

Harry took it. I leaned over his shoulder to read it to. The parchment was damp, and enormous teardrops had smudged the ink so badly in places that it was very difficult to read.

Dear Hermione,

We lost. I'm allowed to bring him back to Hogwarts. Execution date to be fixed. Beaky has enjoyed London.

I won't forget all the help you gave us.

Hagrid

"They can't do this," said Harry. "They can't. Buckbeak isn't dangerous."

"Malfoy's dad's frightened the Committee into it," said Hermione, wiping her eyes. "You know what he's like. They're a bunch of doddery old fools, and they were scared. There'll be an appeal, though, there always is. Only I can't see any hope… Nothing will have changed."

"Yeah, it will," said Ron fiercely. "You won't have to do all the work alone this time, Hermione. I'll help."

"Oh, Ron!"

Hermione flung her arms around Ron's neck and broke down completely.

Ron, looking quite terrified, patted her very awkwardly on the top of the head. Finally, Hermione drew away. I thought they looked cute together.

"Ron, I'm really, really sorry about Scabbers…" she sobbed.

"Oh — well — he was old," said Ron, looking thoroughly relieved that she had let go of him.

"And he was a bit useless. You never know, Mum and Dad might get me an owl now."

The safety measures imposed on the students since Black's second break-in made it impossible for us to go and visit Hagrid in the evenings. Our only chance of talking to him was during Care of Magical Creatures lessons.

He seemed numb with shock at the verdict.

"S'all my fault. Got all tongue-tied. They was all sittin' there in black robes an' I kep' droppin' me notes and forgettin' all them dates yeh looked up fer me, Hermione. An' then Lucius Malfoy stood up an' said his bit, and the Committee jus' did exac'ly what he told 'em…"

"There's still the appeal!" said Ron fiercely. "Don't give up yet, we're working on it!"

We were walking back up to the castle with the rest of the class. Ahead we could see Malfoy, who was walking with Crabbe and Goyle, and kept looking back, laughing derisively.

"S'no good, Ron," said Hagrid sadly as they reached the castle steps. "That Committee's in Lucius Malfoy's pocket. I'm jus' gonna make sure the rest o' Beaky's time is the happiest he's ever had. I owe him that…"

Hagrid turned around and hurried back toward his cabin, his face buried in his handkerchief.

"Look at him blubber!"

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had been standing just inside the castle doors, listening.

"Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" said Malfoy. "And he's supposed to be our teacher!"

Harry and Ron both made furious moves toward Malfoy, but Hermione got there first — SMACK!

She had slapped Malfoy across the face with all the strength she could muster. Malfoy staggered. Harry, Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle stood flabbergasted as Hermione raised her hand again. I looked proud and approving.

"Don't you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul — you evil —"

"Hermione!" said Ron weakly, and he tried to grab her hand as she swung it back.

"Get off, Ron!"

Hermione pulled out her wand. Malfoy stepped backward. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him for instructions, thoroughly bewildered.

"You're lucky Hermione got you first, I wouldn't hold back!" I said to him, my eyes fiery.

"C'mon." Malfoy muttered, and in a moment, all three of them had disappeared into the passageway to the dungeons.

"Hermione!" Ron said again, sounding both stunned and impressed.

"Harry, you'd better beat him in the Quidditch final!" Hermione said shrilly. "You just better had, because I can't stand it if Slytherin wins!"

"We're due in Charms," said Ron, still goggling at Hermione. "We'd better go."

We hurried up the marble staircase toward Professor Flitwick's classroom.

"You're late!" said Professor Flitwick reprovingly as Harry opened the classroom door. "Come along, quickly, wands out, we're experimenting with Cheering Charms today, we've already divided into pairs , you three can work together".

Us three? So far as I can count and last time I checked I could, we are with four. I looked behind but I couldn't see Hermione. Where is she, I wondered while I walked to a desk.

Harry and Ron hurried to my desk at the back and opened their bags. Ron looked behind him.

"Where's Hermione gone?" he asked us.

Harry looked around too.

"That's weird," said Harry, staring at Ron and me. "Maybe — maybe she went to the bathroom or something?"

"Maybe, but she could have said something," I said.

But Hermione didn't turn up all lesson.

"She could've done with a Cheering Charm on her too," said Ron as the class left for lunch, all grinning broadly — the Cheering Charms had left them with a feeling of great contentment.

Hermione wasn't at lunch either. By the time we had finished our apple pie, the after-effects of the Cheering Charms were wearing off, and we had started to get slightly worried.

"You don't think Malfoy did something to her?" Ron said anxiously as we hurried upstairs toward Gryffindor Tower.

We passed the security trolls, gave the Fat Lady the password ("Flibbertigibbet"), and scrambled through the portrait hole into the common room.

Hermione was sitting at a table, fast asleep, her head resting on an open Arithmancy book. We went to sit down, the boys on either side of her and I sat next to Harry. Harry prodded her awake.

"Wh — what?" said Hermione, waking with a start and staring wildly around. "Is it time to go? W — which lesson have we got now?"

"Divination, but it's not for another twenty minutes," said Harry. "Hermione, why didn't you come to Charms?"

"What? Oh no!" Hermione squeaked. "I forgot to go to Charms!"

"But how could you forget?" said Harry. "You were with us till we were right outside the classroom!"

"I don't believe it!" Hermione wailed. "Was Professor Flitwick angry? Oh, it was Malfoy, I was thinking about him and I lost track of things!"

I think she hiding something, I mean come on, she was right behind us and then she just disappeared. There's something fishy about this.

"You know what, Hermione?" said Ron, looking down at the enormous Arithmancy book Hermione had been using as a pillow. "I reckon you're cracking up. You're trying to do too much."

"No, I'm not!" said Hermione, brushing her hair out of her eyes and staring hopelessly around for her bag. "I just made a mistake, that's all! I'd better go and see Professor Flitwick and say sorry… I'll see you in Divination!"

Hermione joined us at the foot of the ladder to Professor Trelawney's classroom twenty minutes later, looking extremely harassed.

"I can't believe I missed Cheering Charms! And I bet they come up in our exams; Professor Flitwick hinted they might!"

Together we climbed the ladder into the dim, stifling tower room. Glowing on every little table was a crystal ball full of pearly white mist. Harry, Ron, Hermione and me sat down together at the same rickety table.

"I thought we weren't starting crystal balls until next term," Ron muttered, casting a wary eye around for Professor Trelawney, in case she was lurking nearby.

"Don't complain, this means we've finished palmistry," Harry muttered back. "I was getting sick of her flinching every time she looked at my hands."

"Good day to you!" said the familiar, misty voice, and Professor Trelawney made her usual dramatic entrance out of the shadows. Parvati and Lavender quivered with excitement, their faces lit by the milky glow of their crystal ball. I rolled my eyes, puh-please, really?

"I have decided to introduce the crystal ball a little earlier than I had planned," said Professor Trelawney, sitting with her back to the fire and gazing around. "The fates have informed me that your examination in June will concern the Orb, and I am anxious to give you sufficient practice."

Hermione snorted.

"Well, honestly… 'the fates have informed her'. Who sets the exam? She does! What an amazing prediction!" she said, not troubling to keep her voice low. Harry, Ron and le choked back laughs.

It was hard to tell whether Professor Trelawney had heard them as her face was hidden in shadow. She continued, however, as though she had not.

"Crystal gazing is a particularly refined art," she said dreamily. "I do not expect any of you to See when first you peer into the Orb's infinite depths. We shall start by practicing relaxing the conscious mind and external eyes —" Ron began to snigger uncontrollably and had to stuff his fist in his mouth to stifle the noise — "so as to clear the Inner Eye and the superconscious. Perhaps, if we are lucky, some of you will see before the end of the class."

And so we began. I, at least, felt extremely foolish, staring blankly at the crystal ball, trying to keep my mind empty when thoughts such as "this is stupid, what the hell am I doing" kept drifting across it. It didn't help that Ron kept breaking into silent giggles, Hermione kept tutting and Harry sighting.

"Seen anything yet?" Harry asked us after a quarter of an hour's quiet crystal gazing.

"Yeah, there's a burn on this table," said Ron, pointing. "Someone's spilled their candle."

"This is such a waste of time," Hermione hissed. "I could be practicing something useful. I could be catching up on Cheering Charms —"

Professor Trelawney rustled past.

"Would anyone like me to help them interpret the shadowy portents within their Orb?" she murmured over the clinking of her bangles.

"I don't need help," Ron whispered. "It's obvious what this means. There's going to be loads of fog tonight."

Harry, Hermione and me burst out laughing.

"Now, really!" said Professor Trelawney as everyone's heads turned in their direction. Parvati and Lavender were looking scandalized. "You are disturbing the clairvoyant vibrations!" She approached their table and peered into their crystal ball. I felt my heart sinking. I was sure I knew what was coming —

"There is something here!" Professor Trelawney whispered, lowering her face to the ball, so that it was reflected twice in her huge glasses. "Something moving… but what is it?"

I was prepared to bet everything I owned, including my necklace I got from my mother, that it wasn't good news, whatever it was. And sure enough —

"My dear," Professor Trelawney breathed, gazing up at Harry. "It is here, plainer than ever before… my dear, stalking toward you, growing ever closer… the Gr —"

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" said Hermione loudly. "Not that ridiculous Grim again!"

Professor Trelawney raised her enormous eyes to Hermione's face. Parvati whispered something to Lavender, and they both glared at Hermione too. Professor Trelawney stood up, surveying Hermione with unmistakable anger.

"I am sorry to say that from the moment you have arrived in this class my dear, it has been apparent that you do not have what the noble art of Divination requires. Indeed, I don't remember ever meeting a student whose mind was so hopelessly mundane."

There was a moment's silence. Then —

"Fine!" said Hermione suddenly, getting up and cramming Unfogging the Future back into her bag. "Fine!" she repeated, swinging the bag over her shoulder and almost knocking Ron off his chair. "I give up! I'm leaving!"

And to the whole class's amazement, Hermione strode over to the trapdoor, kicked it open, and climbed down the ladder out of sight. I stared after her. I don't know her that long, but good enough to now that that wasn't normal for her.

It took a few minutes for the class to settle down again. Professor Trelawney seemed to have forgotten all about the Grim. She turned abruptly from our table, breathing rather heavily as she tugged her gauzy shawl more closely to her.

"Ooooo!" said Lavender suddenly, making everyone start. "Ooooo, Professor Trelawney, I've just remembered! You saw her leaving, didn't you? Didn't you, Professor? 'Around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever!' You said it ages ago, Professor!"

Professor Trelawney gave her a dewy smile.

"Yes, my dear, I did indeed know that Miss Granger would be leaving us. One hopes, however, that one might have mistaken the Signs… The Inner Eye can be a burden, you know…"

Lavender and Parvati looked deeply impressed, and moved over so that Professor Trelawney could join their table instead.

"Some day Hermione's having, eh?" Ron muttered to Harry and me, looking awed.

"Yeah…"

I glanced into the crystal ball but saw nothing but swirling white mist. Had Professor Trelawney really seen the Grim again?

The Easter holidays were not exactly relaxing. The third years had never had so much homework. Neville seemed close to a nervous collapse, and he wasn't the only one.

"Call this a holiday!" Seamus roared at the common room one afternoon. "The exams are ages away, what're they playing at?"

But nobody had as much to do as Hermione. Even without Divination, she was taking more subjects than anybody else. She was usually last to leave the common room at night, first to arrive at the library the next morning; she had shadows like uncle Moony's under her eyes, and seemed constantly close to tears.

Ron had taken over responsibility for Buckbeak's appeal.

When he wasn't doing his own work, he was poring over enormously thick volumes with names like The Handbook of Hippogriff Psychology and Fowl or Foul? A Study of Hippogriff Brutality.

He was so absorbed, he even forgot to be horrible to Crookshanks.

I wasn't stressed, I worked hard en quick, I was used to it. Uncle Moony really liked to give me hard assignments at home, to keep me busy. I never thought I would see the day I would be grateful for it.

Harry, meanwhile, had to fit in his homework around Quidditch practice every day, not to mention endless discussions of tactics with Wood. The Gryffindor-Slytherin match would take place on the first Saturday after the Easter holidays. Slytherin was leading the tournament by exactly two hundred points. This meant (as Wood constantly reminded his team) that they needed to win the match by more than that amount to win the Cup. It also meant that the burden of winning fell largely on Harry, because capturing the Snitch was worth one hundred and fifty points.

"So you must catch it only if we're more than fifty points up," Wood told Harry constantly. "Only if we're more than fifty points up, Harry, or we win the match but lose the Cup. You've got that, Haven't you? You must catch the Snitch only if we're —"

"I KNOW, OLIVER!" Harry yelled.

The whole of Gryffindor House was obsessed with the coming match. Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup since the legendary Charlie Weasley (Ron's second oldest brother) had been Seeker.

But I doubted whether any of them, even Wood, wanted to win as much as Harry did. The enmity between Harry and Malfoy was at its highest point ever. Malfoy was still smarting about the mud-throwing incident in Hogsmeade and was even more furious that Harry had somehow wormed his way out of punishment. Harry hadn't forgotten Malfoy's attempt to sabotage him in the match against Ravenclaw, but it was the matter of Buckbeak that made him most determined to beat Malfoy in front of the entire school.

Never, in anyone's memory, had a match approached in such a highly charged atmosphere.

By the time the holidays were over, tension between the two teams and their Houses was at the breaking point. A number of small scuffles broke out in the corridors, culminating in a nasty incident in which a Gryffindor fourth year and a Slytherin sixth year ended up in the hospital wing with leeks sprouting out of their ears.

Harry was having a particularly bad time of it. He couldn't walk to class without Slytherins sticking out their legs and trying to trip him up; Crabbe and Goyle kept popping up wherever he went, and slouching away looking disappointed when they saw him surrounded by people. Wood had given instructions that Harry should be accompanied everywhere he went, in case the Slytherins tried to put him out of action. The whole of Gryffindor House took up the challenge enthusiastically, so that it was impossible for Harry to get to classes on time because he was surrounded by a vast, chattering crowd. Harry was more concerned for his Firebolt's safety than his own. When he wasn't flying it, he locked it securely in his trunk and frequently dashed back up to Gryffindor Tower at break times to check that it was still there. It was really getting out of hand.

All usual pursuits were abandoned in the Gryffindor common room the night before the match. Even Hermione had put down her books.

"I can't work, I can't concentrate," she said nervously.

There was a great deal of noise. Fred and George Weasley were dealing with the pressure by being louder and more exuberant than ever. Oliver Wood was crouched over a model of a Quidditch field in the corner, prodding little figures across it with his wand and muttering to himself Angelina, Alicia, and Katie were laughing at Fred's and George's jokes. Harry was sitting with Ron, Hermione and me, removed from the center of things, trying not to think about the next day.

"You're going to be fine," Hermione told him, though she looked positively terrified.

"You've got a Firebolt!" said Ron.

"Yeah…" said Harry, his stomach writhing.

"Don't worry Harry, we will be there, shouting, show our support! You're going to be amazing, I know it!" I told him.

It came as a relief to Harry when Wood suddenly stood up and yelled, "Team! Bed!"

I slept badly. First I dreamed that he had overslept, and that Harry was yelling, "Where were you? You promised to be there! You weren't and now we lost!"

Then I dreamed that Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherin team arrived for the match surrounded with Dementors. Harry was flying at breakneck speed, trying to avoid them.

I woke with a start.

It was a few seconds before I remembered that the match hadn't taken place yet, that Harry was safe in bed, and that the Slytherin team definitely wouldn't be allowed to bring Dementors to the match.

I was feeling very thirsty. Quietly as i could, i got out of my four-poster and went to pour myself some water from the silver jug beneath the window.

The grounds were still and quiet. No breath of wind disturbed the treetops in the Forbidden Forest; the Whomping Willow was motionless and innocent-looking. The sky was bright.

It looked as though the conditions for the match would be perfect.

I set down my goblet and was about to turn back to my bed when something caught my eye. An animal of some kind was prowling across the silvery lawn.

I peered out at the grounds again and, after a minute's frantic searching, spotted it. It was skirting the edge of the forest now… It wasn't the Grim at all… it was a cat… I clutched the window ledge in relief as I recognized the bottlebrush tail. It was only Crookshanks…

Or was it only Crookshanks? I squinted, pressing my nose flat against the glass. Crookshanks seemed to have come to a halt. I was sure I could see something else moving in the shadow of the trees too.

And just then, it emerged — a gigantic, shaggy black dog, moving stealthily across the lawn, Crookshanks trotting at its side.

I stared. What did this mean? If Crookshanks could see the dog as well, how could it be an omen of the death? Or was it … No it can't be, there was no reason for it.

"Hermione!" I hissed. "Hermione! Wake up!"

"Huh?"

"I need you to tell me if you can see something!"

"Aurora, what,," Hermione muttered thickly. "What're you on about?"

"Down here —"

I looked quickly back out of the window.

Crookshanks and the dog had vanished. I climbed onto the windowsill to look right down into the shadows of the castle, but they weren't there. Where had they gone?

I feel a body next to me.

"What am I supposed to see?" Hermione asked.

"It's gone now, but I saw Crookshanks and a dog on the grounds."

"Well, they're not there anymore. Go to bed Aurora, we need to be fresh for Harry."

Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall the next day to enormous applause. I saw that Harry couldn't help grinning broadly as he saw that both the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were applauding them too. The Slytherin table hissed loudly as they passed. I noticed that Malfoy looked even paler than usual.

Wood spent the whole of breakfast urging his team to eat, while touching nothing himself. Then he hurried them off to the field before anyone else had finished, so they could get an idea of the conditions. As they left the Great Hall, everyone applauded again.

"Good luck, Harry!" I called.

They walked out onto the field to a tidal wave of noise. Three quarters of the crowd was wearing scarlet rosettes, waving scarlet flags with the Gryffindor lion upon them, or brandishing banners with slogans like "GO GRYFFINDOR!" and "LIONS FOR THE CUP." Behind the Slytherin goal posts, however, two hundred people were wearing green; the silver serpent of Slytherin glittered on their flags, and Professor Snape sat in the very front row, wearing green like everyone else, and a very grim smile.

"And here are the Gryffindors!" yelled Lee Jordan, who was acting as commentator as usual. "Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen in a good few years —"

Lee's comments were drowned by a tide of 'boos' from the Slytherin end.

"And here come the Slytherin team, led by Captain Flint. He's made some changes in the lineup and seems to be going for size rather than skill —"

More boos from the Slytherin crowd. Harry, however, thought Lee had a point. Malfoy was easily the smallest person On the Slytherin team; the rest of them were enormous.

"Captains, shake hands!" said Madam Hooch.

Flint and Wood approached each other and grasped each other's hand very tightly; it looked as though each was trying to break the other's fingers.

"Mount your brooms!" said Madam Hooch. "Three… two… one…"

The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar from the crowd as fourteen brooms rose into the air. Harry felt his hair fly back off his forehead; his nerves left him in the thrill of the flight; he glanced around, saw Malfoy on his tail, and sped off in search of the Snitch.

"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinner of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking good, Alicia! Argh, no — Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing UP the field — WHAM! — nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by — Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina — nice swerve around Montague — duck, Angelina, that's a Bludger! – SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

Angelina punched the air as she soared around the end of the field; the sea of scarlet below was screaming its delight

"OUCH!"

Angelina was nearly thrown from her broom as Marcus Flint went smashing into her.

"Sorry!" said Flint as the crowd below booed. "Sorry, didn't see her!"

A moment later, Fred Weasley chucked his Beater's club at the back of Flint's head. Flint's nose smashed into the handle of his broom and began to bleed.

"That will do!" shrieked Madam Hooch, zooming between then. "Penalty shot to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!"

"Come off it, Miss!" howled Fred, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Alicia flew forward to take the penalty.

"Come on, Alicia!" yelled Lee into the silence that had descended on the crowd. "YES! SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry turned the Firebolt sharply to watch Flint, still bleeding freely, fly forward to take the Slytherin penalty. Wood was hovering in front of the Gryffindor goal posts, his jaw clenched.

"'Course, Wood's a superb Keeper!" Lee Jordan told the crowd as Flint waited for Madam Hooch's whistle. "Superb! Very difficult to pass — very difficult indeed — YES! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! HE'S SAVED IT!"

Relieved, Harry zoomed away, gazing around for the Snitch, but still making sure he caught every word of Lee's commentary. It was essential that he hold Malfoy off the Snitch until Gryffindor was more than fifty points up —

"Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession — no! Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell, Katie Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the field — THAT WAS DELIBERATE!"

Montague, a Slytherin Chaser, had swerved in front of Katie, and instead of seizing the Quaffle had grabbed her head. Katie cart-wheeled in the air, managed to stay on her broom, but dropped the Quaffle.

Madam Hooch's whistle rang out again as she soared over to Montague and began shouting at him. A minute later, Katie had put another penalty past the Slytherin Seeker.

"THIRTY-ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING —"

"Jordan, if you can't commentate in an unbiased way —"

"I'm telling it like it is, Professor!"

Harry felt a huge jolt of excitement. He had seen the Snitch — it was shimmering at the foot of one of the Gryffindor goal posts — but he mustn't catch it yet — and if Malfoy saw it —

Faking a look of sudden concentration, Harry pulled his Firebolt around and sped off toward the Slytherin end — it worked. Malfoy went haring after him, clearly thinking Harry had seen the Snitch there…

WHOOSH.

One of the Bludgers came streaking past Harry's right ear, hit by the gigantic Slytherin Beater, Derrick. Then again…

WHOOSH.

The second Bludger grazed Harry's elbow. The other Beater, Bole, was closing in.

Harry had a fleeting glimpse of Bole and Derrick zooming toward him, clubs raised — He turned the Firebolt upward at the last second, and Bole and Derrick collided with a sickening crunch.

"Ha haaa!" yelled Lee Jordan as the Slytherin Beaters lurched away from each other, clutching their heads. "Too bad, boys! You'll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Firebolt! And it's Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle — Flint alongside her — poke him in the eye, Angelina! — it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke — oh no — Flint in possession, Flint flying toward the Gryffindor goal posts, come on now, Wood, save —!"

But Flint had scored; there was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin end, and Lee swore so badly that Professor McGonagall tried to tug the magical megaphone away from him.

"Sorry, Professor, sorry! Won't happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession —"

It was turning into the dirtiest game Harry had ever played in.

Enraged that Gryffindor had taken such an early lead, the Slytherins were rapidly resorting to any means to take the Quaffle. Bole hit Alicia with his club and tried to say he'd thought she was a Bludger. George Weasley elbowed Bole in the face in retaliation. Madam Hooch awarded both teams penalties, and Wood pulled off another spectacular save, making the score forty-ten to Gryffindor.

The Snitch had disappeared again. Malfoy was still keeping close to Harry as he soared over the match, looking around for it once Gryffindor was fifty points ahead — Katie scored.

Fifty-ten. Fred and George Weasley were swooping around her, clubs raised, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of revenge. Bole and Derrick took advantage of Fred's and George's absence to aim both Bludgers at Wood; they caught him in the stomach, one after the other, and he rolled over in the air, clutching his broom, completely winded.

Madam Hooch was beside herself —

"YOU DO NOT ATTACK THE KEEPER UNLESS THE QUAFFLE IS WITHIN THE SCORING AREA!" she shrieked at Bole and Derrick. "Gryffindor penalty!"

And Angelina scored. Sixty-ten.

Moments later, Fred Weasley pelted a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle out of his hands; Alicia seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal — seventy-ten.

The Gryffindor crowd below was screaming itself hoarse — Gryffindor was sixty points in the lead, and if Harry caught the Snitch now, the Cup was theirs. Harry could almost feel hundreds of eyes following him as he soared around the field, high above the rest of the game, with Malfoy speeding along behind him.

And then he saw it. The Snitch was sparkling twenty feet above him.

Harry put on a huge burst of speed; the wind was roaring in his ears; he stretched out his hand, but suddenly, the Firebolt was slowing down —

Horrified, he looked around. Malfoy had thrown himself forward, grabbed hold of the Firebolt's tail, and was pulling it back.

"You —"

Harry was angry enough to hit Malfoy, but couldn't reach — Malfoy was panting with the effort of holding onto the Firebolt, but his eyes were sparkling maliciously. He had achieved what he'd wanted to do — the Snitch had disappeared again.

"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics." Madam Hooch screeched, shooting up to where Malfoy was sliding back onto his Nimbus Two Thousand and One.

"YOU CHEATING SCUM!" Lee Jordan was howling into the megaphone, dancing out of Professor McGonagall's reach. "YOU FILTHY, CHEATING B —"

Professor McGonagall didn't even bother to tell him off. She was actually shaking her finger in Malfoy's direction, her hat had fallen off, and she too was shouting furiously.

Alicia took Gryffindor's penalty, but she was so angry she missed by several feet. The Gryffindor team was losing concentration and the Slytherins, delighted by Malfoy's foul on Harry, were being spurred on to greater heights.

"Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal — Montague scores —" Lee groaned. "Seventy-twenty to Gryffindor…"

Harry was now marking Malfoy so closely their knees kept hitting each other. Harry wasn't going to let Malfoy anywhere near the Snitch…

"Get out of it, Potter!" Malfoy yelled in frustration as he tried to turn and found Harry blocking him.

"Angelina Johnson gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, Angelina, COME ON!"

Harry looked around. Every single Slytherin player apart from Malfoy was streaking up the pitch toward Angelina, including the Slytherin Keeper — they were all going to block her — Harry wheeled the Firebolt around, bent so low he was lying flat along the handle, and kicked it forward. Like a bullet, he shot toward the Slytherins.

"AAAAAAARRRGH!"

They scattered as the Firebolt zoomed toward them; Angelina's way was clear.

"SHE SCORES! SHE SCORES! Gryffindor leads by eighty Points to twenty!"

Harry, who had almost pelted headlong into the stands, skidded to a halt in midair, reversed, and zoomed back into the middle of the field.

And then he saw something to make his heart stand still. Malfoy was diving, a look of triumph on his face — there, a few feet above the grass below, was a tiny, golden glimmer —

Harry urged the Firebolt downward, but Malfoy was miles ahead —

"Go! Go! Go!" Harry urged his broom. He was gaining on Malfoy — Harry flattened himself to the broom handle as Bole sent a Bludger at him — he was at Malfoy's ankles — he was level —

Harry threw himself forward, took both hands off his broom. He knocked Malfoy's arm out of the way and —

He pulled out of his dive, his hand in the air, and the stadium exploded. Harry soared above the crowd, an odd ringing in his ears. The tiny golden ball was held tight in his fist, beating its wings hopelessly against his fingers.

Then Wood was speeding toward him, half-blinded by tears; he seized Harry around the neck and sobbed unrestrainedly into his shoulder. Harry felt two large thumps as Fred and George hit them; then Angelina's, Alicia's, and Katie's voices, "We've won the Cup! We've won the Cup!" Tangled together in a many-armed hug, the Gryffindor team sank, yelling hoarsely, back to earth.

Wave upon wave of crimson supporters was pouring over the barriers onto the field. Hands were raining down on their backs. Harry had a confused impression of noise and bodies pressing in on him. Then he, and the rest of the team, were hoisted onto the shoulders of the crowd. Thrust into the light, he saw Hagrid, Plastered with crimson rosettes — "Yeh beat 'em, Harry, yeh beat 'em! Wait till I tell Buckbeak!"

There was Percy, jumping up and down like a maniac, all dignity forgotten.

Professor McGonagall was sobbing harder even than Wood, wiping her eyes with an enormous Gryffindor flag; and there, fighting their way toward Harry, were Ron and Hermione. Words failed them. They simply beamed as Harry was borne toward the stands, where Dumbledore stood waiting with the enormous Quidditch Cup.

If only there had been a Dementor around… As a sobbing Wood passed Harry the Cup, as he lifted it into the air, Harry felt he could have produced the world's best Patronus.


	12. Exams, predictions and Hagrid

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything**

**Ok, here is the right chapter ;) sorry **

**Chapter 12: Exams, predictions and Hagrid**

My euphoria at winning the Quidditch Cup lasted at least a week. Even the weather seemed to be celebrating; as June approached, the days became cloudless and sultry, and all anybody felt like doing was strolling onto the grounds and flopping down on the grass with several pints of iced pumpkin juice, perhaps playing a casual game of Gobstones or watching the giant squid propel itself dreamily across the surface of the lake.

But they couldn't. Exams were nearly upon them, and instead of lazing around outside, the students were forced to remain inside the castle, trying to bully their brains into concentrating while enticing wafts of summer air drifted in through the windows. Even Fred and George Weasley had been spotted working;they were about to take their O.W.L.s (Ordinary Wizarding Levels). Percy was getting ready to take his N.E.W.T.s (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests), the highest qualification Hogwarts offered. As Percy hoped to enter the Ministry of Magic, he needed top grades. He was becoming increasingly edgy, and gave very severe punishments to anybody who disturbed the quiet of the common room in the evenings. In fact, the only person who seemed more anxious than Percy was Hermione.

Harry, Ron and me had given up asking her how she was managing to attend several classes at once, but we couldn't restrain ourselves when we saw the exam schedule she had drawn up for herself. The first column read:

Monday

9 o'clock, Arithmancy

9 o'clock, Transfiguration

Lunch

1 o'clock, Charms

1 o'clock, Ancient Runes

"Hermione?" Ron said cautiously, because she was liable to explode when interrupted these days.

"Er — are you sure you've copied down these times right?"

"What?" snapped Hermione, picking up the exam schedule and examining it. "Yes, of course I have."

"Is there any point asking how you're going to sit for two exams at once?" said Harry.

"No," said Hermione shortly. "Have either of you seen my copy of Numerology and Gramatica?"

"Oh, yeah, I borrowed it for a bit of bedtime reading," said Ron, but very quietly.

Hermione started shifting heaps of parchment around on her table, looking for the book. Just then, there was a rustle at the window and Hedwig fluttered through it, note clutched tightly in her beak.

"It's from Hagrid," said Harry ripping the note open. "Buckbeak's appeal - it's set for the sixth."

"That's the day we finish our exams," said Hermione, still looking everywhere for her Arithmancy book.

"And they're coming up here to do it," said Harry, still reading from the letter. "Someone from the Ministry of Magic - and an executioner."

I looked up, startled.

"They're bringing the executioner to the appeal! But that sounds as though they've already decided!"

"Yeah, it does," said Harry slowly.

"They can't!" Ron howled. "I've spent_ ages _reading up stuff for him, they can't just ignore it all!"

But I had a horrible feeling that the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures had had its mind made up for it by Mr. Malfoy. Draco, who had been noticeably subdued since Gryffindor's triumph in the Quidditch final, seemed to regain some of his old swagger over the next few days.

From sneering comments I overheard, Malfoy was certain Buckbeak was going to be killed, and seemed thoroughly pleased with himself for bringing it about. It was all I could do to stop myself for executing my threat of hitting Malfoy in the face on these occasions.

And the worst thing of all was that we had no time or opportunity to go and see Hagrid, because the strict new security measures had not been lifted, and Harry didn't dare retrieve his Invisibility Cloak from below the one-eyed witch.

Exam week began and an unnatural hush fell over the castle. The third-years emerged from Transfiguration at lunch-time on Monday limp and ashen-faced, comparing results and bemoaning the difficulty of the tasks they had been set, which had included turning a teapot into a tortoise.

Hermione irritated the rest by fussing about how her tortoise had looked more like a turtle, which was the least of everyone else's worries.

"Mine still had a spout for a tail, what a nightmare ..."

"Were the tortoises _supposed_ to breathe steam?"

"It still had a willow-patterned shell, d'you think that'll count against me?"

Then, after a hasty lunch, it was straight back upstairs for the Charms exam. Hermione had been right; Professor Flitwick did indeed test them on Cheering Charms. Harry slightly overdid his out of nerves and Ron, who was partnering him, ended up in fits of hysterical laughter and had to be led away to a quiet room for an hour before he was ready to perform the Charm himself. Hermione and me did the spell correctly and we both received full marks.

After dinner, the students hurried back to their common rooms, not to relax, but to start revising for Care of Magical Creatures, Potions and Astronomy.

Hagrid presided over the Care of Magical Creatures exam the following morning with a very preoccupied air indeed; his heart didn't seem to be in it at all. He had provided a large tub of Flobberworms for the class, and told them that, to pass the test, their Flobberworm had to still be alive at the end of one hour.

As Flobberworms flourished best if left to their own devices, it was the easiest exam any of them had ever sat, and also gave Harry, Ron, Hermione and me plenty of opportunity to speak to Hagrid.

"Beaky's gettin' a bit depressed," Hagrid told them, bending low on the pretense of checking that Harry's flobberworm was still alive. "Bin cooped up too long. But still… we'll know day after tomorrow — one way or the other —"

They had Potions that afternoon, which wasn't a total disaster as I expected. My Confusing Concoction was perfect, and Snape, standing watch with an air of anger, scribbled something onto his notes before moving away. He wasn't looking so happy so I must have passed.

Then came Astronomy at midnight, up on the tallest tower; History of Magic on Wednesday morning, in which I scribbled everything uncle Moony had ever told me about medieval witch-hunts, while wishing I could have had one of his famous lemonade with me in the stifling classroom.

Wednesday afternoon meant Herbology, in the greenhouses under a baking-hot sun; then back to the common room once more, with sunburnt necks, thinking longingly of this time next day, when it would all be over.

Their second to last exam, on Thursday morning, was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Uncle Moony had compiled the most unusual exam any of them had ever taken; a sort of obstacle course outside in the sun, where they had to wade across a deep paddling pool containing a Grindylow, cross a series of potholes full of Red Caps, squish their way across a patch of marsh while ignoring misleading directions from a Hinkypunk, then climb into an old trunk and battle with a new Boggart.

"Excellent, Aurora," uncle Moony muttered as I climbed out of the trunk, grinning. "Full marks."

Flushed with my success, I hung around to watch Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry did it wonderfull and received full marks to. Ron did very well until he reached the Hinkypunk, which successfully confused him into sinking waist-high into the quagmire. Hermione did everything perfectly until she reached the trunk with the Boggart in it. After about a minute inside it, she burst out again, screaming.

"Hermione!" said uncle Moony, startled. "What's the matter?"

"P-P-Professor McGonagall!" Hermione gasped, pointing into the trunk. "Sh-she said I'd failed everything!"

It took a little while to calm Hermione down. When at last she had regained a grip on herself, she, Harry, Ron and me went back to the castle. Ron was still slightly inclined to laugh at Hermione's Boggart, but an argument was averted by the sight that met them on the top of the steps.

Cornelius Fudge, sweating slightly in his pinstriped cloak, was standing there staring out at the grounds. He started at the sight of Harry.

"Hello there, Harry!" he said. "Just had an exam, I expect? Nearly finished?"

"Yes," said Harry. Hermione and Ron, not being on speaking terms with the Minister of Magic, hovered awkwardly in the background. I just looked past him, if I looked at him, I would probably punch him in the gut.

"Lovely day," said Fudge, casting an eye over the lake. "Pity… pity…"

He sighed deeply and looked down at Harry.

"I'm here on an unpleasant mission, Harry. The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures required a witness to the execution of a mad Hippogriff. As I needed to visit Hogwarts to check on the Black situation, I was asked to step in."

"Does that mean the appeal's already happened?" Ron interrupted, stepping forward.

"No, no, it's scheduled for this afternoon," said Fudge, looking curiously at Ron.

"Then you might not have to witness an execution at all!" said Ron stoutly. "The Hippogriff might get off!"

Before Fudge could answer, two wizards came through the castle doors behind him. One was so ancient he appeared to be withering before their very eyes; the other was tall and strapping, with a thin back mustache. I gathered that they were representatives of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, because the very old wizard squinted toward Hagrid's cabin and said in a feeble voice, "Dear, dear, I'm getting too old for this… Two o'clock, isn't it, Fudge?"

The black-mustached man was fingering something in his belt; I looked and saw that he was running one broad thumb along the blade of a shining axe. Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione nudged him hard in the ribs and jerked her head toward the entrance hall.

"Why'd you stop me?" said Ron angrily as we entered the Great Hall for lunch. "Did you see them? They've even got the axe ready! This isn't justice!"

"Ron, your dad works for the Ministry, you can't go saying things like that to his boss!" said Hermione, but she too looked very upset.

"As long as Hagrid keeps his head this time, and argues his case properly, they can't possibly execute Buckbeak…"

But I could tell Hermione didn't really believe what she was saying. All around them, people were talking excitedly as they ate their lunch, happily anticipating the end of the exams that afternoon, but Harry, Ron, Hermione and me, lost in worry about Hagrid and Buckbeak, didn't join in.

Harry's, Ron's and my last exam was Divination; Hermione's, Muggle Studies. We walked up the marble staircase together; Hermione left them on the first floor and Harry, Ron and me proceeded all the way up to the seventh, where many of our class were sitting on the spiral staircase to Professor Trelawney's classroom, trying to cram in a bit of last-minute studying.

"She's seeing us all separately," Neville informed us as we went to sit down next to him. He had his copy of Unfogging the Future open on his lap at the pages devoted to crystal gazing. "Have either of you ever seen anything in a crystal ball?" he asked them unhappily.

"Nope," said Ron in an offhand voice. He kept checking his watch; I knew that he was counting down the time until Buckbeak's appeal started.

"Just make something up, Neville. Something about death. She'll love that!" I said winking.

The line of people outside the classroom shortened very slowly. As each person climbed back down the silver ladder, the rest of the class hissed, "What did she ask? Was it okay?"

But they all refused to say.

"She says the crystal ball's told her that if I tell you, I'll have a horrible accident!" squeaked Neville as he clambered back down the ladder toward Harry, Ron and me, who had now reached the landing.

"That's convenient," snorted Ron. "You know, I'm starting to think Hermione was right about her" — he jabbed his thumb toward the trapdoor overhead — "she's a right old fraud."

"Yeah," said Harry, looking at his own watch. It was now two o'clock. "Wish she'd hurry up…"

"Ah, but Harry, the inner eye needs some time to put on his classes," I said in a dreamy voice.

The boys started laughing. Clad they could still take a joke.

Parvati came back down the ladder glowing with pride.

"She says I've got all the makings of a true Seer," she informed us. "I saw loads of stuff… Well, good luck!"

She hurried off down the spiral staircase toward Lavender.

"Ronald Weasley," said the familiar, misty voice from over their heads. Ron grimaced at Harry and me and climbed the silver ladder out of sight. Harry and me were now the only persons left to be tested. We settled ourself on the floor with our back against the wall, listening to a fly buzzing in the sunny window, our minds across the grounds with Hagrid. I love this, just sitting with Harry, next to him, our shoulders touching.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, Ron's large feet reappeared on the ladder.

"How'd it go?" Harry asked him, standing up.

"Rubbish," said Ron. "Couldn't see a thing, so I made some stuff up. Don't think she was convinced, though…"

"Meet you in the common room," Harry muttered as Professor Trelawney's voice called, "Harry Potter!"

"Good luck," I said.

"Thanks," he said.

After 30 minutes he came back, shaking his head.

"Complete disaster. Didn't see anything and I couldn't make up something. Oh well, it's only Divination. Good luck, Aurora, you're going to need it!" He said.

"Thanks," I took a deep breath and climbed the ladder.

The tower room was hotter than ever before; the curtains were closed, the fire was alight, and the usual sickly scent made me cough as I stumbled through the clutter of chairs and table to where Professor Trelawney sat waiting for me before a large crystal ball.

"Good day, my dear," she said softly. "If you would kindly gaze into the Orb… Take your time, now… then tell me what you see within it…"

I bent over the crystal ball and stared, stared as hard as I could, willing it to show me something other than swirling white fog, but nothing happened.

"Well?" Professor Trelawney prompted delicately. "What do you see?" The heat was overpowering and my nostrils were stinging with the perfumed smoke wafting from the fire beside them. I thought of what I told Neville, and decided to pretend.

"Er —" I said, "a dark shape… um…"

"What does it resemble?" whispered Professor Trelawney. "Think, now…"

I cast my mind around and it landed on Buckbeak.

"A Hippogriff," I said firmly.

"Indeed!" whispered Professor Trelawney, scribbling keenly on the parchment perched upon her knees. "My dear, you may well be seeing the outcome of poor Hagrid's trouble with the Ministry of Magic! Look closer… Does the Hippogriff appear to… have its head?"

"Yes," I said firmly.

"Are you sure?" Professor Trelawney urged me. "Are you quite sure, dear? You don't see it writhing on the ground, perhaps, and a shadowy figure raising an axe behind it?"

"No!" I said, starting to feel slightly sick.

"No blood? No weeping Hagrid?"

"No!" I said again, wanting more than ever to leave the room and the heat. "It looks fine, it's — flying away…" Professor Trelawney sighed.

"Well, dear, I think we'll leave it there… A little disappointing… but I'm sure you did your best."

Relieved, I got up, picked up my bag and turned to go, but then a loud, harsh voice spoke behind me.

"IT WILL HAPPEN TONIGHT."

I wheeled around. Professor Trelawney had gone rigid in her armchair; her eyes were unfocused and her mouth sagging.

"S — sorry?" I said.

But Professor Trelawney didn't seem to hear me. Her eyes started to roll. I sat there in a panic. She looked as though she was about to have some sort of seizure. I hesitated, thinking of running to the hospital wing — and then Professor Trelawney spoke again, in the same harsh voice, quite unlike her own: "THE DARK LORD LIES ALONE AND FRIENDLESS, ABANDONED BY HIS FOLLOWERS. HIS SERVANT HAS BEEN CHAINED THESE TWELVE YEARS. TONIGHT, BEFORE MIDNIGHT… THE SERVANT WILL BREAK FREE AND SET OUT TO REJOIN HIS MASTER. THE DARK LORD WILL RISE AGAIN WITH HIS SERVANT'S AID, GREATER AND MORE TERRIBLE THAN EVER HE WAS. TONIGHT… BEFORE MIDNIGHT… THE SERVANT… WILL SET OUT… TO REJOIN… HIS MASTER…"

Professor Trelawney's head fell forward onto her chest. She made a grunting sort of noise. I sat there, staring at her. Then, quite suddenly, Professor Trelawney's head snapped up again.

"I'm so sorry, dear," she said dreamily, "the heat of the day, you know… I drifted off for a moment…"

I sat there, staring at her.

"Is there anything wrong, my dear?"

"You — you just told me that the — the Dark Lord's going to rise again… that his servant's going to go back to him."

Professor Trelawney looked thoroughly startled.

"The Dark Lord? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? My dear, that's hardly something to joke about… Rise again, indeed —"

"But you just said it! You said the Dark Lord —"

"I think you must have dozed off too, dear!" said Professor Trelawney. "I would certainly not presume to predict anything quite as far-fetched as that!"

I climbed back down the ladder and the spiral staircase, wondering… had I just heard Professor Trelawney make a real prediction? Or had that been her idea of an impressive end to the test?

Five minutes later I was dashing past the security trolls outside the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, Professor Trelawney's words still resounding in my head. People were striding past me in the opposite direction, laughing and joking, heading for the grounds and a bit of long-awaited freedom; by the time I had reached the portrait hole and entered the common room, it was almost deserted. Over in the corner, however, sat Ron, Hermione and Harry.

"Professor Trelawney," I panted, "just told me —"

But I stopped abruptly at the sight of their faces.

"Buckbeak lost," said Ron weakly. "Hagrid's just sent this."

Hagrid's note was dry this time, no tears had splattered it, yet his hand seemed to have shaken so much as he wrote that it was hardly legible.

Lost appeal. They're going to execute at sunset. Nothing you can do. Don't come down. I don't want you to see it.

Hagrid

"We've got to go," said Harry at once. "He can't just sit there on his own, waiting for the executioner!"

"Sunset, though," said Ron, who was staring out the window ill a glazed sort of way. "We'd never be allowed… 'specially you, Harry and you to Aurora…" Harry sank his head into his hands.

"If we only had the Invisibility Cloak…"

"Where is it?" said Hermione.

I told her about leaving it in the passageway under the one-eyed witch.

"… if Snape sees me or Harry anywhere near there again, we would be in serious trouble," I finished.

"That's true," said Hermione, getting to her feet. "If he sees you… How do you open the witch's hump again?"

"You — you tap it and say, 'Dissendium,'" I said. "But —"

Hermione didn't wait for the rest of my sentence; she strode across the room, pushed open the Fat Lady's portrait and vanished from sight.

"She hasn't gone to get it?" Ron said, staring after her.

She had. Hermione returned a quarter of an hour later with the silvery cloak folded carefully under her robes.

"Hermione, I don't know what's gotten, into you lately!" said Ron, astounded. "First you hit Malfoy, then you walk out on Professor Trelawney —"

Hermione looked rather flattered.

We went down to dinner with everybody else, but did not return to Gryffindor Tower afterward. Harry had the cloak hidden down the front of his robes; he had to keep his arms folded to hide the lump. We skulked in an empty chamber off the entrance hall, listening, until we were sure it was deserted. We heard a last pair of people hurrying across the hall and a door slamming. Hermione poked her head around the door.

"Okay," she whispered, "no one there — cloak on —"

Walking very close together so that nobody would see us, we crossed the hall on tiptoe beneath the cloak, then walked down the stone front steps into the grounds. The sun was already sinking behind the Forbidden Forest, gilding the top branches of the trees.

We reached Hagrid's cabin and knocked. He was a minute in answering, and when he did, he looked all around for his visitor, pale-faced and trembling.

"It's us," Harry hissed. "We're wearing the Invisibility Cloak. Let us in and we can take it off."

"Yeh shouldn've come!" Hagrid whispered, but he stood back, and we stepped inside. Hagrid shut the door quickly and Harry pulled off the cloak.

Hagrid was not crying, nor did he throw himself upon their necks. He looked like a man who did not know where he was or what to do. This helplessness was worse to watch than tears.

"Wan' some tea?" he said. His great hands were shaking as he reached for the kettle.

"Where's Buckbeak, Hagrid?" said Hermione hesitantly.

"I — I took him outside," said Hagrid, spilling milk all over the table as he filled up the jug. "He's tethered in me pumpkin patch. Thought he oughta see the trees an' — an' smell fresh air — before —"

Hagrid's hand trembled so violently that the milk jug slipped from his grasp and shattered all over the floor.

"I'll do it, Hagrid," I said quickly, hurrying over and starting to clean up the mess.

"There's another one in the cupboard," Hagrid said, sitting down and wiping his forehead on his sleeve.

"Isn't there anything anyone can do, Hagrid?" Harry asked fiercely, sitting down next to him. "Dumbledore —"

"He's tried," said Hagrid. "He's got no power ter overrule the Committee. He told 'em Buckbeak's all right, but they're scared… Yeh know what Lucius Malfoy's like… threatened 'em, I expect… an' the executioner, Macnair, he's an old pal o' Malfoy's… but it'll be quick an' clean… an' I'll be beside him…"

Hagrid swallowed. His eyes were darting all over the cabin as though looking for some shred of hope or comfort.

"Dumbledore's gonna come down while it — while it happens. Wrote me this mornin'. Said he wants ter — ter be with me. Great man, Dumbledore…"

I had been rummaging in Hagrid's cupboard for another milk jug, let out a small, quickly stifled sob. I straightened up with the new jug in my hands, fighting back tears.

"We'll stay with you too, Hagrid," Hermione began, but Hagrid shook his shaggy head.

"Yeh're ter go back up ter the castle. I told yeh, I don' wan' yeh watchin'. An' yeh shouldn' be down here anyway… If Fudge an' Dumbledore catch yeh out without permission, Harry, yeh'll be in big trouble and you even more Aurora."

Silent tears were now streaming down Hermione's face, but she hid them from Hagrid, by helping me making tea. Then, as I picked up the milk bottle to pour some into the jug, I let out a shriek.

"Ron, I don't believe it — it's Scabbers!"

Ron gaped at me.

"What are you talking about?"

Icarried the milk jug over to the table and turned it upside down. With a frantic squeak, and much scrambling to get back inside, Scabbers the rat came sliding out onto the table.

"Scabbers!" said Ron blankly. "Scabbers, what are you doing here?"

He grabbed the struggling rat and held him up to the light. Scabbers looked dreadful. He was thinner than ever, large tufts of hair had fallen out leaving wide bald patches, and he writhed in Ron's hands as though desperate to free himself.

"It's okay, Scabbers!" said Ron. "No cats! There's nothing here to hurt you!"

Hagrid suddenly stood up, his eyes fixed on the window. His normally ruddy face had gone the color of parchment.

"They're comin'…"

Ron, Hermione and me whipped around. A group of men was walking down the distant castle steps. In front was Albus Dumbledore, his silver beard gleaming in the dying sun. Next to him trotted Cornelius Fudge. Behind them came the feeble old Committee member and the executioner, Macnair.

"Yeh gotta go," said Hagrid. Every inch of him was trembling. "They mustn' find yeh here… Go now…"

Ron stuffed Scabbers into his pocket and Hermione picked up the cloak. "I'll let yeh out the back way," said Hagrid.

We followed him to the door into his back garden. I felt strangely unreal, and even more so when I saw Buckbeak a few yards away, tethered to a tree behind Hagrid's pumpkin patch. Buckbeak seemed to know something was happening. He turned his sharp head from side to side and pawed the ground nervously.

"It's okay, Beaky," said Hagrid softly. "It's okay…" He turned to Harry, Ron,Hermione and me. "Go on," he said. "Get goin'."

But we didn't move.

"Hagrid, we can't —"

"We'll tell them what really happened —"

"They can't kill him —"

"Go!" said Hagrid fiercely. "It's bad enough without you lot in trouble an' all!"

We had no choice. As Hermione threw the cloak over Harry, Ron and me, we heard voices at the front of the cabin. Hagrid looked at the place where we had just vanished from sight.

"Go quick," he said hoarsely. "Don' listen…"

And he strode back into his cabin as someone knocked at the front door.

Slowly, in a kind of horrified trance, Harry, Ron, Hermione and me set off silently around Hagrid's house. As we reached the other side, the front door closed with a sharp snap.

"Please, let's hurry," Hermione whispered. "I can't stand it, I can't bear it…"

We started up the sloping lawn toward the castle. The sun was sinking fast now; the sky had turned to a clear, purple-tinged gray, but to the west there was a ruby-red glow.

Ron stopped dead.

"Oh, please, Ron," Hermione began.

"It's Scabbers — he won't — stay put —"

Ron was bent over, trying to keep Scabbers in his pocket, but the rat was going berserk; squeaking madly, twisting and flailing, trying to sink his teeth into Ron's hand.

"Scabbers, it's me, you idiot, it's Ron," Ron hissed.

We heard a door open behind us and men's voices.

"Oh, Ron, please let's move, they're going to do it!" Hermione breathed.

"Okay — Scabbers, stay put —"

We walked forward; I, like Hermione, was trying not to listen to the rumble of voices behind them. Ron stopped again.

"I can't hold him — Scabbers, shut up, everyone'll hear us —"

The rat was squealing wildly, but not loudly enough to cover up the sounds drifting from Hagrid's garden. There was a jumble of indistinct male voices, a silence, and then, without warning, the unmistakable swish and thud of an axe.

Hermione swayed on the spot.

"They did it!" she whispered to us. "I'd — don't believe it — they did it!"

I wasn't feeling so good. I had to hold Harry to keep me from falling. Tears were running down my face. I couldn't believe it.

**A/N: you know what to do! Review please, thank you **

**My question is still open, give me your vote.**


	13. Cat, Rat and Dog

**A/N: I'm so sorry! I accidently uploaded the wrong chapter last time. Thank you for the ones who pointed this out for me! **

**Now on with the story**

**I don't own anything: disclaimer**

**Chapter 13: Cat, Rat and Dog**

My mind had gone blank with shock. The four of us stood transfixed with horror under the Invisibility Cloak. The very last rays of the setting sun were casting a bloody light over the long-shadowed grounds. Then, behind us, they heard a wild howling.

"Hagrid," Harry muttered. Without thinking about what he was doing, he made to turn back, but both Ron and Hermione seized his arms and I stepped in front of him and placed my hands on his chest to stop him.

"We can't," said Ron, who was paper-white. "He'll be in worse trouble if they know we've been to see him…"

Hermione's breathing was shallow and uneven.

"How — could — they?" she choked. "How could they?"

"Come on," said Ron, whose teeth seemed to be chattering.

We set off back toward the castle, walking slowly to keep ourselves hidden under the cloak. The light was fading fast now. By the time we reached open ground, darkness was settling like a spell around us.

"Scabbers, keep still," Ron hissed, clamping his hand over his chest. The rat was wriggling madly. Ron came to a sudden halt, trying to force Scabbers deeper into his pocket. "What's the matter with you, You stupid rat? Stay still — OUCH! He bit me!"

"Ron, be quiet!" Hermione whispered urgently. "Fudge'll be out here in a minute —"

"He won't — stay — put —"

Scabbers was plainly terrified. He was writhing with all his might, trying to break free of Ron's grip.

"What's the matter with him?"

But I had just seen — stinking toward us, his body low to the ground, wide yellow eyes glinting eerily in the darkness — Crookshanks. Whether he could see us or was following the sound of Scabbers's squeaks, I couldn't tell.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione moaned. "No, go away, Crookshanks! Go away!"

But the cat was getting nearer —

"Scabbers — NO!"

Too late — the rat had slipped between Ron's clutching fingers, hit the ground, and scampered away. In one bound, Crookshanks sprang after him, and before Harry, Hermione or me could stop him, Ron had thrown the Invisibility Cloak off himself and pelted away into the darkness.

"Ron!" Hermione moaned.

We looked at each other, then followed at a sprint; it was impossible to run full out under the cloak; we pulled it off and it streamed behind us like a banner as we hurtled after Ron; we could hear his feet thundering along ahead and his shouts at Crookshanks.

"Get away from him — get away — Scabbers, come here —"

There was a loud thud.

"Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat —"

Harry and Hermione almost fell over Ron; they skidded to a stop right in front of him. I stopped beside them, panting. He was sprawled on the ground, but Scabbers was back in his pocket; he had both hands held tight over the quivering lump.

"Ron — come on back under the cloak —" Hermione panted. "Dumbledore — the Minister — they'll be coming back out in a minute —"

But before we could cover ourselves again, before we could even catch our breath, we heard the soft pounding of gigantic paws… Something was bounding toward us, quiet as a shadow — an enormous, pale-eyed, jet-black dog.

Harry reached for his wand, but too late — the dog had made an enormous leap and the front paws hit him on the chest; he keeled over backward in a whirl of hair; But the force of its leap had carried it too far; it rolled off him. Harry tried to stand up; I went over to help him while keeping an eye on the dog. I could hear it growling as it skidded around for a new attack.

Ron was on his feet. As the dog sprang back toward them he pushed Harry and me aside; the dog's jaws fastened instead around Ron's outstretched arm. Harry lunged forward, he seized a handful of the brute's hair, but it was dragging Ron away as easily as though he were a rag doll —

Then, out of nowhere, something hit me so hard across the face I was knocked off my feet. I heard Hermione shriek with pain and Harry falling beside me with a grunt.

I groped for my wand, blinking blood out of my eyes.

"Lumos!" I whispered.

The wandlight showed me the trunk of a thick tree; they had chased Scabbers into the shadow of the Whomping Willow and its branches were creaking as though in a high wind, whipping backward and forward to stop us going nearer.

And there, at the base of the trunk, was the dog, dragging Ron backward into a large gap in the roots — Ron was fighting furiously, but his head and torso were slipping out of sight —

"Ron!" Harry shouted, trying to follow, but a heavy branch whipped lethally through the air and he was forced backward again.

All we could see now was one of Ron's legs, which he had hooked around a root in an effort to stop the dog from pulling him farther underground — but a horrible crack cut the air like a gunshot; Ron's leg had broken, and a moment later, his foot vanished from sight.

"Harry — we've got to go for help —" Hermione gasped; she was bleeding too; the Willow had cut her across the shoulder.

"No! That thing's big enough to eat him; we haven't got time —"

"Harry — we're never going to get through without help —"

Another branch whipped down at us, twigs clenched like knuckles.

"If that dog can get in, we can," Harry panted, darting here and there, trying to find a way through the vicious, swishing branches, but he couldn't get an inch nearer to the tree roots without being in range of the tree's blows.

"Oh, help, help," Hermione whispered frantically, dancing uncertainly on the spot, "Please…"

Crookshanks darted forward. He slithered between the battering branches like a snake and placed his front paws upon a knot on the trunk. Abruptly, as though the tree had been turned to marble, it stopped moving. Not a leaf twitched or shook.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione whispered uncertainly. She now grasped my arm painfully hard. "How did he know —?"

"He's friends with that dog," said Harry grimly. "I've seen them together. Come on — and keep your wand out —"

We covered the distance to the trunk in seconds, but before we had reached the gap in the roots, Crookshanks had slid into it with a flick of his bottlebrush tail. Harry went next; I followed, I crawled forward, headfirst, and slid down an earthy slope to the bottom of a very low tunnel.

Crookshanks was a little way along, his eyes flashing in the light from Harry's wand. Seconds later, Hermione slithered down beside me.

"Where's Ron?" she whispered in a terrified voice.

"This way," said Harry, setting off, bent-backed, after Crookshanks.

"Where does this tunnel come out?" Hermione asked breathlessly from behind me.

"I don't know… It's marked on the Marauder's Map but Fred and George said no one's ever gotten into it… It goes off the edge of the map, but it looked like it was heading for Hogsmeade…"

We moved as fast as we could, bent almost double; ahead of us, Crookshanks's tail bobbed in and out of view. On and on went the passage; it felt at least as long as the one to Honeydukes… All I could think of was Ron and what the enormous dog might be doing to him… The dog looked familiar, like I seen it before. It's like a know the dog. He looks so much like… no I'm being silly. It can't be, could it? I was drawing breath in sharp, painful gasps, running at a crouch…

And then the tunnel began to rise; moments later it twisted, and Crookshanks had gone. Ahead I could see a patch of dim light through a small opening.

Harry, Hermione and me paused, gasping for breath, edging forward. We raised our wands to see what lay beyond.

It was a room, a very disordered, dusty room. Paper was peeling from the walls; there were stains all over the floor; every piece of furniture was broken as though somebody had smashed it. The windows were all boarded up.

I glanced at Hermione, who looked very frightened and I looked at Harry and he nodded.

I pulled myself out of the hole, staring around. The room was deserted, but a door to our right stood open, leading to a shadowy hallway. Hermione suddenly grabbed my arm again. Her wide eyes were traveling around the boarded windows.

"Aurora," she whispered, "I think we're in the Shrieking Shack."

I looked around. My eyes fell on a wooden chair near us. Large chunks had been torn out of it; one of the legs had been ripped off entirely.

"Ghosts didn't do that," Harry said slowly.

I remember uncle Moony telling me something about this place and that tree. I all came back to me. The story he told me. This was the place, this is where he…

At that moment, there was a creak overhead. Something had moved upstairs. We looked up at the ceiling. Hermione's grip on my arm was so tight I was losing feeling in my fingers.

I raised my eyebrows at her; she nodded again and let go.

Quietly as we could, we crept out into the hall and up the crumbling staircase. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust except the floor, where a wide shiny stripe had been made by something being dragged upstairs.

We reached the dark landing.

"Nox," we whispered together, and the lights at the end of our wands went out. Only one door was open. As we crept toward it, we heard movement from behind it; a low moan, and then a deep, loud purring. We exchanged a last look, a last nod.

Wand held tightly before him, Harry kicked the door wide open.

On a magnificent four-poster bed with dusty hangings lay Crookshanks, purring loudly at the sight of us. On the floor beside him, clutching his leg, which stuck out at a strange angle, was Ron.

Harry and Hermione dashed across to him. I stayed where I was, where was that dog?

"Ron — are you okay?"

"Where's the dog?"

"Not a dog," Ron moaned. His teeth were gritted with pain. "Harry, it's a trap —"

"What —"

"He's the dog… he's an Animagus."

Ron was staring over Harry's shoulder. I wheeled around. With a snap, the man in the shadows closed the door behind us.

A mass of filthy, matted hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn't been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might have been a corpse. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it looked like a skull. His yellow teeth were bared in a grin. It was Sirius Black. My father.

"Expelliarmus!" he croaked, pointing Ron's wand at us.

Harry's, Hermione's and my wands shot out of our hands, high in the air, and Black caught them. Then he took a step closer. His eyes were fixed on Harry.

"I thought you'd come and help your friend," he said hoarsely.

His voice sounded as though he had long since lost the habit of using it. "Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful… it will make everything much easier…"

The taunt about Harry's father rang in my ears as though dad had bellowed it. A boiling hate erupted in my chest, leaving no place for fear. For the first time in my life, I felt so angry. How dared he, saying that about Harry's father. I can't believe that's my father.

I saw Harry moving out of the corner of my eye, his face twisted from anger. But there was a sudden movement on either side of him and two pairs of hands grabbed him and held him back…"No, Harry!" Hermione gasped in a petrified whisper; Ron, however, spoke to dad.

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!" he said fiercely, though the effort of standing upright was draining him of still more color, and he swayed slightly as he spoke.

Something flickered in dad's shadowed eyes. I narrowed my eyes, what was that? Was that compassion?

"Lie down," he said quietly to Ron. "You will damage that leg even more."

"Did you hear me?" Ron said weakly, though he was clinging painfully to Harry to stay upright. "You'll have to kill all four of us!" I blinked, did he really said four?

"There'll be only one murder here tonight," said dad, and his grin widened.

"Why's that?" Harry spat, trying to wrench himself free of Ron, and Hermione. "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew… What's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?"

I gasped.

"Harry!" Hermione whimpered. "Be quiet!"

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" Harry roared, and he broke free of Hermione's and Ron's restraint and lunged forward —

Perhaps it was the shock of Harry doing something so stupid, but dad didn't raise the wands in time — one of Harry's hands fastened over his wasted wrist, forcing the wand tips away; the knuckles of Harry's other hand collided with the side of Black's head and they fell, backward, into the wall —

Hermione was screaming; Ron was yelling; I just stood in there in shock, I had no idea what to do; there was a blinding flash as the wands in Black's hand sent a jet of sparks into the air that missed Harry's face by inches; The shrunken arm under Harry's fingers twisting madly, but Harry clung on, his other hand punching every part of dad he could find.

But dad's free hand had found Harry's throat.

"No," he hissed, "I've waited too long —"

"No," I whispered.

The fingers tightened, Harry choked, his glasses askew. I started to move, but then I saw Hermione's foot swing out of nowhere. Dad let go of Harry with a grunt of pain; Ron had thrown himself on dad's wand hand and I heard a faint clatter —

Harry fought free of the tangle of bodies and he threw himself toward it but

"Argh!"

Crookshanks had joined the fray; both sets of front claws had sunk themselves deep into Harry's arm; Harry threw him off, but Crookshanks now darted toward Harry's wand —

"NO YOU DON'T!" roared Harry, and he aimed a kick at Crookshanks that made the cat leap aside, spitting; Harry snatched up his wand and turned —

"Get out of the way!" he shouted at Ron and Hermione.

They didn't need telling twice. Hermione, gasping for breath, her lip bleeding, scrambled aside, snatching up her and Ron's wands. Ron crawled to the four-poster and collapsed onto it, panting, his white face now tinged with green, both hands clutching his broken leg.

Dad was sprawled at the bottom of the wall. His thin chest rose and fell rapidly as he watched Harry walking slowly nearer, his wand pointing straight at dad's heart.

"Going to kill me, Harry?" he whispered.

I looked at Harry, was he going to do it? Was I going to let him?

Harry stopped right above dad, his wand still pointing at dad's chest, looking down at him. A livid bruise was rising around dad's left eye and his nose was bleeding.

"You killed my parents," said Harry, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand quite steady.

Dad stared up at him out of those sunken eyes.

"I don't deny it," he said very quietly. "But if you knew the whole story."

"The whole story?" Harry repeated, a furious pounding in his ears. "You sold them to Voldemort. That's all I need to know."

"You've got to listen to me," dad said, and there was a note of urgency in his voice now. "You'll regret it if you don't… You don't understand…"

"I understand a lot better than you think," said Harry, and his voice shook more than ever. "You never heard her, did you? My mum… trying to stop Voldemort killing me… and you did that… you did it…"

Before either of them could say another word, something ginger streaked past Harry; Crookshanks leapt onto dad's chest and settled himself there, right over dad's heart. Dad blinked and looked down at the cat.

"Get off," he murmured, trying to push Crookshanks off him.

But Crookshanks sank his claws into Black's robes and wouldn't shift. He turned his ugly, squashed face to Harry and looked up at him with those great yellow eyes. To my right, Hermione gave a dry sob.

Harry stared down at Black and Crookshanks, his grip tightening on the wand. Harry raised the wand. Now was the moment to do it. Now was the moment to avenge his mother and father. He was going to kill dad. He was going to kill dad!

"No!" I yelled and I leaped forward and stood still between dad and Harry. I spread my arms as if I could protect dad better that way. Harry stared at me, like he'd never seen me before.

"Don't do it Harry, I beg you, don't" tears were forming in my eyes.

The seconds lengthened. And still Harry stood frozen there, wand poised, dad staring up at me, I could feel his eyes on me, Crookshanks on his chest. Ron's ragged breathing came from near the bed; Hermione was quite silent.

And then came a new sound —

Muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor — someone was moving downstairs.

"WE'RE UP HERE!" Hermione screamed suddenly. "WE'RE UP HERE — SIRIUS BLACK — QUICK!"

Dad made a startled movement that almost dislodged Crookshanks; Harry gripped his wand convulsively , I kept standing where I was, I didn't want to take my eyes of Harry.

The footsteps were thundering up the stairs and Harry still hadn't done it.

The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks and Harry wheeled around as uncle Moony came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready. His eyes flickered over Ron, lying on the floor, over Hermione, cowering next to the door, to Harry, standing there with his wand covering dad, me standing before Dad and then to dad himself, crumpled and bleeding at our feet.

"Expelliarmus!" uncle Moony shouted.

Harry's wand flew once more out of his hand; so did the two Hermione was holding. Uncle Moony caught them all deftly, then moved into the room, staring at me and dad, who still had Crookshanks lying protectively across his chest.

I stood there, feeling suddenly empty. I protected my father and probably lost my friends in the process.

Then uncle Moony spoke, in a very tense voice.

"Where is he, Sirius?"

I looked quickly at uncle Moony. I didn't understand what uncle Moony meant. Who was he talking about? He turned to look at dad again.

Dad's face was quite expressionless. For a few seconds, he didn't move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand and pointed straight at Ron. Mystified, I glanced around at Ron, who looked bewildered. I gasped, of course!

"But then…" uncle Moony muttered, staring at dad so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind, "… why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless" — uncle Moony's eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond dad, something none of the rest could see, "— unless he was the one… unless you switched… without telling me?"

"Really, uncle Moony, I figured it out before you and I wasn't even there," I said.

Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving uncle Moony's face, dad nodded. Then he turned to me.

"Uncle Moony? What are you talking about girl?" he asked.

I looked at uncle Moony, he nodded.

I took a deep breath. "I call him my uncle because his my godfather." I stared at dad, hoping he'd understand what that meant.

He stared back and then his eyes widened. I smiled at him.

"Aurora," he whispered. I nodded.

"It's me, dad" I said.

Dad stood up and walked to me. He stopped in front me and stared in my eyes.

"You look so much like your mother. You are beautiful, I can't believe I could forget something this beautiful." He said.

I grinned. I opened my arms a bit, hoping he would understand the hint. He did, he took me in his arms. It felt nice, it felt save, like I was finally home. Than he let go of but I took a hand in my hand. I wasn't going to let go. Uncle Moony walked to us and embraced dad like a brother.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione screamed.

I jumped, I totally forgot they were here to. Oh God, this must be so weird for them.

Uncle Moony let go of dad and turned to her. She had raised herself off the floor and was pointing at uncle Moony, wild-eyed. "You — you —"

"Hermione —"

"– you and him! And Aurora,"

"Hermione, calm down —"

"I didn't tell anyone!" Hermione shrieked. "I've been covering up for you —"

"Hermione, listen to me, please" uncle Moony shouted. "I can explain —"

"I trusted you," he shouted at uncle Moony, his voice wavering, out of control, "and all the time you've been his friend!"

"And you," he turned to me, "I trusted you to, I let you become my friend and then you betray me! How could you!"

"Harry, please," I said, tears falling from my eyes.

"You're wrong," said uncle Moony. "I haven't been Sirius's friend, but I am now — Let me explain…"

"NO!" Hermione screamed. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too — he's a werewolf!"

There was a ringing silence. Everyone's eyes were now on uncle Moony, who looked remarkably calm, though rather pale.

"Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione," he said. "Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry dead." An odd shiver passed over his face. "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf."

Ron made a valiant effort to get up again but fell back with a whimper of pain. Uncle Moony made toward him, looking concerned, but Ron gasped, "Get away from me, werewolf!"

"Ron!" I yelled, looking at him with anger.

Uncle Moony stopped dead. Then, with an obvious effort, he turned to Hermione and said, "How long have you known?"

"Ages," Hermione whispered. "Since I did Professor Snape's essay…"

"He'll be delighted," said uncle Moony coolly. "He assigned that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant… Did you check the lunar chart and realize that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realize that the Boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?"

"Both," Hermione said quietly.

Uncle Moon forced a laugh.

"You're the cleverest witch of your age I've ever met, Hermione."

"I'm not," Hermione whispered. "If I'd been a bit cleverer, I'd have told everyone what you are!"

"But they already know," said uncle Moony. "At least, the staff do."

"Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf," Ron gasped. "Is he mad?"

"Some of the staff thought so," said uncle Moony. "He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy —"

"Wait, did you know, Aurora?" Hermione asked me.

I stared at her. "Hermione, that's really a stupid question. Of course I know, he told me when I was old enough. He isn't evil, Hermione, that's why Dumbledore hired him, because he's a good guy. Couldn't hurt a fly."

"AND HE WAS WRONG!" Harry yelled. "YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!"

He was pointing at dad, who suddenly crossed to the four-poster bed and sank onto it, his face hidden in one shaking hand. Crookshanks leapt up beside him and stepped onto his lap, purring. Ron edged away from both of them, dragging his leg. I followed him and sat next to him. I leaned against him and laid my head on his shoulder.

"I have not been helping Sirius," said uncle Moony. "If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look —"

He separated Harry's, Ron's and Hermione's wands and threw each back to its owner; Harry caught his, stunned. Uncle Moony also threw my wand to Harry and he caught that to.

"There," said uncle Moony, sticking his own wand back into his belt "You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?"

"If you haven't been helping him," he said, with a furious glance at dad, "how did you know he was here?"

"The map," said uncle Moony. "The Marauder's Map. I was in my office examining it —"

"You know how to work it?" Harry said suspiciously.

"Really, Harry, don't you remember one of the people who made it? Who insulted Snape!" I said.

"Of course I know how to work it," said uncle Moony, waving his hand impatiently. "I helped write it. I'm Moony — that was my friends' nickname for me at school."

"You wrote —?"

"The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, Ron, Hermione and Aurora might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his Hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn't I?"

He had started to pace up and down, looking at them. Little patches of dust rose at his feet.

"You might have been wearing your father's old cloak, Harry—"

"How d'you know about the cloak?"

"The number of times I saw James disappearing under it…" said uncle Moony, waving an impatient hand again.

"The point is, even if you're wearing an Invisibility Cloak, you still show up on the Marauder's Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid's hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid, and set off back toward the castle. But you were now accompanied by somebody else."

"What?" said Harry. "No, we weren't!"

"Yes we were," I said and I narrowed my eyes and looked at Ron, who shivered under my glare.

"I couldn't believe my eyes," said uncle Moony, still pacing, and ignoring Harry's and mine interruption. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?"

"No one was with us!" said Harry.

"Yes there was!" I said back.

"And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labeled Sirius Black… I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow —"

"One of us!" Ron said angrily.

"No, Ron," said uncle Moony. "Two of you."

He had stopped his pacing, his eyes moving over Ron.

"Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" he said evenly.

"What?" said Ron. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?"

"Everything," said uncle Moony. "Could I see him, please?"

Ron hesitated, then put a hand inside his robes. Scabbers emerged, thrashing desperately; Ron had to seize his long bald tail to stop him escaping. Crookshanks stood up on dad's leg and made a soft hissing noise.

Uncle Moony moved closer to Ron. He seemed to be holding his breath as he gazed intently at Scabbers. I leaned in to get a better look to.

"What?" Ron said again, holding Scabbers close to him, looking scared. "What's my rat got to do with anything?"

"That's not a rat," croaked dad suddenly.

"What d'you mean — of course he's a rat —"

"No, he's not," said uncle Moony quietly. "He's a wizard."

"An Animagus," I said, "by the name of Peter Pettigrew."

**A/N: please review, you could make me very happy! **


	14. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs

**A/N: disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**Chapter 14: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs**

It took a few seconds for the absurdity of this statement to sink in. Then Ron voiced what they all had to be thinking.

"You're both mental."

"Ridiculous!" said Hermione faintly.

"Peter Pettigrew's dead!" said Harry. "He killed him twelve years ago!" He pointed at dad, whose face twitched convulsively.

"I meant to," he growled, his yellow teeth bared, "but little Peter got the better of me… not this time, though!"

And Crookshanks was thrown to the floor as dad lunged at Scabbers; Ron yelled with pain as dad's weight fell on his broken leg.

"Dad, no!" I yelled.

"Sirius, NO!" uncle Moony yelled, launching himself forwards and dragging dad away from Ron again, "WAIT! You can't do it just like that — they need to understand — we've got to explain —"

"We can explain afterwards!" snarled dad, trying to throw uncle Moony off. One hand was still clawing the air as it tried to reach Scabbers, who was squealing like a piglet, scratching Ron's face and neck as he tried to escape.

"They've — got — a — right — to — know — everything!" uncle Moony panted, still trying to restrain dad. "Ron's kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don't understand, and Harry — you owe Harry the truth, Sirius!"

"And me, you owe me the truth to. I have to know why I grew up without my real father," I said.

Dad stopped struggling, though his hollowed eyes were still fixed on Scabbers, who was clamped tightly under Ron's bitten, scratched, and bleeding hands.

"All right, then," dad said, without taking his eyes off the rat. "Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for…"

"You're nutters, the three of you," said Ron shakily, looking round at Harry and Hermione for support. "I've had enough of this. I'm off."

He tried to heave himself up on his good leg, but uncle Moony raised his wand again, pointing it at Scabbers.

"You're going to hear me out, Ron," he said quietly. "Just keep a tight hold on Peter while you listen."

"HE'S NOT PETER, HE'S SCABBERS!" Ron yelled, trying to force the rat back into his front pocket, but Scabbers was fighting too hard; Ron swayed and overbalanced, and Harry caught him am pushed him back down to the bed. Then, ignoring dad, Harry turned to uncle Moony.

"There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die," he said. "A whole street full of them…"

"They didn't see what they thought they saw!" said dad savagely, still watching Scabbers struggling in Ron's hands.

"Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter," said uncle Moony, nodding. "I believed it myself — until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder's map never lies… Peter's alive. Ron's holding him, Harry."

Harry looked down at Ron, and as their eyes met, I saw the agreement in their eyes: they thought that dad and uncle Moony were both out of their minds.

Then Hermione spoke, in a trembling, would-be calm sort of voice, as though trying to will uncle Moony to talk sensibly.

"But Professor Lupin… Scabbers can't be Pettigrew… it just can't be true, you know it can't…"

"Why can't it be true?" uncle Moony said calmly, as though they were in class, and Hermione had simply spotted a problem in an experiment with Grindylows.

"Because… because people would know if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked them up when I did my homework — the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals; there's a register showing what animal they become, and their markings and things… and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and there have been only seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew's name wasn't on the list."

I had barely had time to marvel inwardly at the effort Hermione put into her homework, when uncle Moony started to laugh.

"Right again, Hermione!" he said. "But the Ministry never knew that here used to be three unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts."

"If you're going to tell them the story, get a move on, Remus," said dad, who was still watching Scabbers's every desperate move. "I've waited twelve years, I'm not going to wait much longer."

"All right… but you'll need to help me, Sirius," said uncle Moony, "I only know how it began…"

Uncle Moony broke off. There had been a loud creak behind him. The bedroom door had opened of its own accord. All six of us stared at it. Then uncle Moony strode toward it and looked out into the landing.

"No one there…"

"This place is haunted!" said Ron.

"It's not," said uncle Moony, still looking at the door in a puzzled way. "The Shrieking Shack was never haunted… The screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me."

He pushed his graying hair out of his eyes, thought for a moment then said, "That's where all of this starts — with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitten… and if I hadn't been so foolhardy…"

He looked sober and tired. Ron started to interrupt, but Hermione, said, "Shh!" She was watching uncle Moony very intently.

"I was a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure. The potion that Professor Snape has been making for me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week, preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform… I'm able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again."

"Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren't likely to want their children exposed to me."

"But then Dumbledore became Headmaster, and he was sympathetic. He said that as long as we took certain precautions, there was no reason I shouldn't come to school…" uncle Moony sighed, and looked directly at Harry. "I told you, months ago, that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts. The truth is that it was planted because I came to Hogwarts. This house" — uncle Moony looked miserably around the room, — "the tunnel that leads to it — they were built for my use. Once a month, I was smuggled out of the castle, into this place, to transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone coming across me while I was dangerous."

Uncle Moony looked so sad, I wanted to get up and give him a hug, but that would distract him. The only sound apart from uncle Moony's voice was Scabbers' frightened squeaking.

"My transformations in those days were — were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits. Dumbledore encouraged the rumor… Even now, when the house has been silent for years, the villagers don't dare approach it…"

Tears where forming in my eyes, he never told me this.

"But apart from my transformations, I was happier than I had ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, three great friends. Sirius Black… Peter Pettigrew… and, of course, your father, Harry — James Potter."

"Now, my three friends could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month. I made up all sorts of stories. I told them my mother was ill, and that I had to go home to see her… I was terrified they would desert me the moment they found out what I was. But of course, they, like you, Hermione, worked out the truth…"

"And they didn't desert me at all. Instead, they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi."

"My dad too?" said Harry, astounded.

"Yes, indeed," said uncle Moony. "It took them the best part of three years to work out how to do it. Your father and Sirius here were the cleverest students in the school, and lucky they were, because the Animagus transformation can go horribly wrong — one reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it. Peter needed all the help he could get from James and Sirius. Finally, in our fifth year, they managed it. They could each turn into a different animal at will."

"But how did that help you?" said Hermione, sounding puzzled.

"They couldn't keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals," said uncle Moony. "A werewolf is only a danger to people. They sneaked out of the castle every month under James's Invisibility Cloak. They transformed… Peter, as the smallest, could slip beneath the Willow's attacking branches and touch the knot that freezes it. They would then slip down the tunnel and join me. Under their influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to become less so while I was with them."

"Hurry up, Remus," snarled dad, who was still watching Scabbers with a horrible sort of hunger on his face.

"I'm getting there, Sirius, I'm getting there… well, highly exciting possibilities were open to us now that we could all transform. Soon we were leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Sirius and James transformed into such large animals, they were able to keep a werewolf in check. I doubt whether any Hogwarts students ever found out more about the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade than we did… And that's how we came to write the Marauder's Map, and sign it with our nicknames. Sirius is Padfoot. Peter is Wormtail. James was Prongs."

"What sort of animal —?" Harry began, but I cut him off.

I got and smacked both of them on the head.

They stared at me. "What was that for?" dad asked me.

I raised an eyebrow. "Have you any idea how dangerous and irresponsible that was!" I told them. "What if he'd given the others the slip and bitten somebody? That would haunt him for live!"

"A thought that still haunts me," said uncle Moony heavily. "And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless — carried away with our own cleverness. I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore's trust, of course… he had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmaster would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others' safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month's adventure. And I haven't changed…"

Uncle Moony's face had hardened, and there was self-disgust in his voice. "All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn't do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I'd betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I'd led others along with me… and Dumbledore's trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it… so, in a way, Snape's been right about me all along."

"Snape?" said dad harshly, taking his eyes off Scabbers; for the first time in minutes and looking up at uncle Moony. "What's Snape got to do with it?"

"He's here, Sirius," said uncle Moony heavily. "He's teaching here as well." He looked up at Harry, Ron, Hermione and me.

"Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons… you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me —"

Dad made a derisive noise.

"It served him right," he sneered. "Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to… hoping he could get us expelled…"

"Dad, if you don't want to get smacked again, shut up!" I said to him, looking stern. He blinked and then grinned at me.

"Severus was very interested in where I went every month." Uncle Moony told Harry, Ron,Hermione and me. "We were in the same year, you know, and we — er — didn't like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James's talent on the Quidditch field… anyway Snape had seen me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomfrey one evening as she led me toward the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be — er — amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick, and he'd be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it — if he'd got as far as this house, he'd have met a fully grown werewolf — but your father, who'd heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to his life… Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I was…"

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you," said Harry slowly, "because he thought you were in on the joke?"

"That's right," sneered a cold voice from the wall behind uncle Moony.

Severus Snape was pulling off the Invisibility Cloak, his wand pointing directly at uncle Moony.

**A/N: Wow, this a short chapter, so I promise I upload the next chapter this day to.**

**Please review, it would make me very happy!**


	15. The servant of Lord Voldemort

**A/N: as promised, the next chapter on the same day **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**Chapter 15: The servant of Lord Voldemort**

Hermione screamed. Dad leapt to his feet. I felt as though I'd received a huge electric shock.

"I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow," said Snape, throwing the cloak aside, careful to keep this wand pointing directly at uncle Moony's chest. "Very useful, Potter, I thank you…"

Snape was slightly breathless, but his face was full of suppressed triumph. "You're wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here?" he said, his eyes glittering. "I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did… lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight."

"Severus —" uncle Moony began, but Snape overrode him.

"I've told the headmaster again and again that you're helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout —"

"Severus, you're making a mistake," said uncle Moony urgently. "You haven't heard everything — I can explain — Sirius is not here to kill Harry —"

"Two more for Azkaban tonight," said Snape, his eyes now gleaming fanatically.

"I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this… He was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin… a tame werewolf —"

"You fool," said uncle Moony softly. "Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"

BANG! Thin, snakelike cords burst from the end of Snape's wand and twisted themselves around uncle Moony's mouth, wrists, and ankles; he overbalanced and fell to the floor, unable to move.

With a roar of rage, dad started toward Snape, but Snape pointed his wand straight between dad's eyes.

"Give me a reason," he whispered. "Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will."

Dad stopped dead. It would have been impossible to say which face showed more hatred.

I stood there, paralyzed, not knowing what to do. I glanced around at Ron, Hermione and Harry. Ron looked just as confused as he did, still fighting to keep hold on the struggling Scabbers. Hermione, however, took an uncertain step toward Snape and said, in a very breathless voice, "Professor Snape — it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say, w-would it?"

"Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school," Snape spat. "You, Potter, Weasley and Black are out-of-bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, hold your tongue."

"But if — if there was a mistake —"

"KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!"

A few sparks shot out of the end of his wand, which was still pointed at dad's face. Hermione fell silent. How dare he!

"Vengeance is very sweet," Snape breathed at dad. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you…"

"The joke's on you again, Severus," dad snarled.

"As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle" — he jerked his head at Ron — "I'll come quietly…"

"Up to the castle?" said Snape silkily. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the Dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black… pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay… I —"

What little color there was in dad's face left it.

"You — you've got to hear me out," he croaked. "The rat — look at the rat —"

But there was a mad glint in Snape's eyes that I had never seen before. He seemed beyond reason.

"Come on, all of you," he said. He clicked his fingers, and the ends of the cords that bound uncle Moony flew to his hands. "I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the Dementors will have a kiss for him too —"

Before I knew what I was doing, I had crossed the room in three strides and blocked the door. Harry followed me.

"Get out of the way, Potter, Black, you're in enough trouble already," snarled Snape. "If I hadn't been here to save your skin —"

"Professor Lupin could have killed me about a hundred times this year," Harry said. "I've been alone with him loads of times, having defense lessons against the Dementors. If he was helping Black, why didn't he just finish me off then?"

"I live with him since my 11th birthday, if he wanted to hurt me, he could have, and no-one would know."

"Don't ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works," hissed Snape. "Get out of the way, Potter and Black."

"YOU'RE PATHETIC!" Harry yelled. "JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON'T EVEN LISTEN —"

"SILENCE! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT!" Snape shrieked, looking madder than ever. "Like father, like son, Potter! I have just saved your neck; you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if he'd killed you! You'd have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black — now get out of the way, or I will make you. GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER!"

I made up my mind in a split second. Before Snape could take even one step toward us, I had raised my wand.

"Expelliarmus!" I yelled — except that my wasn't the only voice that shouted. There was a blast that made the door rattle on its hinges; Snape was lifted off his feet and slammed into the wall, then slid down it to the floor, a trickle of blood oozing from under his hair. He had been knocked out.

I looked around. Ron, Hermione and Harry had tried to disarm Snape at exactly the same moment.

Snape's wand soared in a high arc and landed on the bed next to Crookshanks.

"You shouldn't have done that," said dad, looking at me. "You should have left him to me…"

"We attacked a teacher… We attacked a teacher…" Hermione whimpered, staring at the lifeless Snape with frightened eyes. "Oh, we're going to be in so much trouble —"

Uncle Moony was struggling against his bonds. Dad bent down quickly and untied him. Uncle Moony straightened up, rubbing his arms where the ropes had cut into them.

"Thank you ," he said.

"I'm still not saying I believe you," Harry told uncle Moony.

"Then it's time we offered you some proof," said uncle Moonyn. "You, boy — give me Peter, please. Now."

Ron clutched Scabbers closer to his chest.

"Come off it," he said weakly. "Are you trying to say he broke out of Azkaban just to get his hands on Scabbers? I mean…" He looked up at Harry and Hermione for support, "Okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat — there are millions of rats — how's he supposed to know which one he is after if he was locked up in Azkaban?"

"You know, Sirius, that's a fair question," said uncle Moony, turning to dad and frowning slightly.

"How did you find out where he was?"

Dad put one of his claw-like hands inside his robes and took out a crumpled piece of paper, which he smoothed flat and held out to show the others.

It was the photograph of Ron and his family that had appeared in the Daily Prophet the previous summer, and there, on Ron's shoulder, was Scabbers.

"How did you get this?" uncle Moony asked dad, thunderstruck.

"Fudge," said dad. "When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page on this boy's shoulder… I knew him at once… how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts… to where Harry was…"

"My God," said uncle Moony softly, staring from Scabbers to the picture in the paper and back again. "His front paw…"

"What about it?" said Ron defiantly.

"He's got a toe missing," said dad.

"Of course," uncle Moony breathed. "So simple… so brilliant… he cut it off himself?"

"Just before he transformed," said dad. "When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself — and sped down into the sewer with the other rats…"

"Didn't you ever hear, Ron?" said uncle Moony. "The biggest bit of Peter they found was his finger."

"Look, Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something! He's been in my family for ages, right —"

"Twelve years, in fact," said uncle Moony. "Didn't you ever wonder why he was living so long?"

"We — we've been taking good care of him!" said Ron.

"Not looking too good at the moment, though, is he?" said uncle Moony. "I'd guess he's been losing weight ever since he heard Sirius was on the loose again…"

"He's been scared of that mad cat!" said Ron, nodding toward Crookshanks, who was still purring on the bed.

"This cat isn't mad," said dad hoarsely. He reached out a bony hand and stroked Crookshanks's fluffy head. "He's the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met. He recognized Peter for what he was right away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was a while before he trusted me… Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he's been helping me…"

"What do you mean?" breathed Hermione.

"He tried to bring Peter to me, but couldn't… so he stole the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me… As I understand it, he took them from a boy's bedside table…"

"But Peter got wind of what was going on and ran for it." croaked dad. "This cat — Crookshanks, did you call him? — told me Peter had left blood on the sheets… I supposed he bit himself… Well, faking his own death had worked once."

"And why did he fake his death?" Harry said furiously. "Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!"

"No," said uncle Moony, "Harry—"

"And now you've come to finish him off!"

"Yes, I have," said dad, with an evil look at Scabbers.

"Then I should've let Snape take you!" Harry shouted.

"Harry," said uncle Moony hurriedly, "don't you see? All this time we've thought Sirius betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down — but it was the other way around, don't you see? Peter betrayed your mother and father — Sirius tracked Peter down —"

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Harry yelled. "HE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP. HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!"

He was pointing at dad, who shook his head slowly; the sunken eyes were suddenly over bright.

"Harry… I as good as killed them," he croaked. "I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me… I'm to blame, I know it… The night they died, I'd arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he'd gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents' house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies… I realized what Peter must've done… what I'd done…"

His voice broke. He turned away. I went to him and put my arms around him.

"Enough of this," said uncle Moony, and there was a steely note in his voice I had never heard before.

"There's one certain way to prove what really happened. Ron, give me that rat."

"What are you going to do with him if I give him to you?" Ron asked uncle Moony tensely.

"Force him to show himself," said uncle Moony. "If he really is a rat, it won't hurt him."

Ron hesitated. Then at long last, he held out Scabbers and uncle Moony took him. Scabbers began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turning, his tiny black eyes bulging in his head. "Ready, Sirius?" said uncle Moony.

Dad had already retrieved Snape's wand from the bed. He approached uncle Moony and the struggling rat, and his wet eyes suddenly seemed to be burning in his face.

"Together?" he said quietly.

"I think so", said uncle Moony, holding Scabbers tightly in one hand and his wand in the other. "On the count of three. One — two — THREE!"

A flash of blue-white light erupted from both wands; for a moment, Scabbers was frozen in midair, his small gray form twisting madly — Ron yelled — the rat fell and hit the floor. There was another blinding flash of light and then —

It was like watching a speeded-up film of a growing tree. A head was shooting upward from the ground; limbs were sprouting; a moment later, a man was standing where Scabbers had been, cringing and wringing his hands. Crookshanks was spitting and snarling on the bed; the hair on his back was standing up.

He was a very short man, hardly taller than Harry, Hermione or me. His thin, colorless hair was unkempt and there was a large bald patch on top. He had the shrunken appearance of a plump man who has lost a lot of weight in a short time. His skin looked grubby, almost like Scabbers's fur, and something of the rat lingered around his pointed nose and his very small, watery eyes. He looked around at them all, his breathing fast and shallow. I saw his eyes dart to the door and back again.

"Well, hello, Peter," said uncle Moony pleasantly, as though rats frequently erupted into old school friends around him.

"Long time, no see."

"S—Sirius… R—Remus…" Even Pettigrew's voice was squeaky. Again, his eyes darted toward the door. "My friends… my old friends…"

Dad's wand arm rose, but uncle Moony seized him around the wrist, gave him a warning took, then turned again to Pettigrew, his voice light and casual.

"We've been having a little chat, Peter, about what happened the night Lily and James died. You might have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed —"

"Remus," gasped Pettigrew, and I could see beads of sweat breaking out over his pasty face, "you don't believe him, do you…? He tried to kill me, Remus…"

"So we've heard," said uncle Moony, more coldly. "I'd like to clear up one or two little matters with you, Peter, if you'll be so —"

"He's come to try and kill me again!" Pettigrew squeaked suddenly, pointing at dad, and I saw that he used his middle finger, because his index was missing. "He killed Lily and James and now he's going to kill me too… You've got to help me, Remus…"

Dad's face looked more skull-like than ever as he stared at Pettigrew with his fathomless eyes.

"No one's going to try and kill you until we've sorted a few things out," said uncle Moony.

"Sorted things out?" squealed Pettigrew, looking wildly about him once more, eyes taking in the boarded windows and, again, the only door. "I knew he'd come after me! I knew he'd be back for me! I've been waiting for this for twelve years!"

"You knew Sirius was going to break out of Azkaban?" said uncle Moony, his brow furrowed. "When nobody has ever done it before?"

"He's got dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!" Pettigrew shouted shrilly. "How else did he get out of there? I suppose He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named taught him a few tricks!"

Dad started to laugh, a horrible, mirthless laugh that filled the whole room.

"Voldemort, teach me tricks?" he said.

Pettigrew flinched as though dad had brandished a whip at him.

"What, scared to hear your old master's name?" said dad. "I don't blame you, Peter. His lot aren't very happy with you, are they?"

"Don't know what you mean, Sirius —" muttered Pettigrew, his breathing faster than ever. His whole face was shining with sweat now.

"You haven't been hiding from me for twelve years," said dad. "You've been hiding from Voldemort's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter… They all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them… I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potters' on your information… and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they've seen the error of their ways. If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter —"

"Don't know… what you're talking about…" said Pettigrew again, more shrilly than ever. He wiped his face on his sleeve and looked up at uncle Moony. "You don't believe this — this madness, Remus —"

"I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat," said uncle Moony evenly.

"Innocent, but scared!" squealed Pettigrew. "If Voldemort's supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban — the spy, Sirius Black!"

Dad's face contorted.

"How dare you," he growled, sounding suddenly like the bearsized dog he had been. "I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter — I'll never understand why I didn't see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who'd look after you, didn't you? It used to be us… me and Remus… and James…"

Pettigrew wiped his face again; he was almost panting for breath.

"Me, a spy… must be out of your mind… never… don't know how you can say such a —"

"Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it," dad hissed, so venomously that Pettigrew took a step backward. "I thought it was the perfect plan… a bluff… Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you… It must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters."

Pettigrew was muttering distractedly; I caught words like "far-fetched" and "lunacy," but I couldn't help paying more attention to the ashen color of Pettigrew's face and the way his eyes continued to dart toward the windows and door.

"Professor Lupin?" said Hermione timidly. "Can — can I say something?"

"Certainly, Hermione," said uncle Moony courteously.

"Well — Scabbers — I mean, this — this man — he's been sleeping in Harry's dormitory for three years. If he's working for You-Know-Who, how come he never tried to hurt Harry before now?"

"There!" said Pettigrew shrilly, pointing at Ron with his maimed hand. "Thank you! You see, Remus? I have never hurt a hair of Harry's head! Why should I?"

"I'll tell you why," said dad. "Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. Voldemort's been in hiding for fifteen years, they say he's half dead. You weren't about to commit murder right under Albus Dumbledore's nose, for a wreck of a wizard who'd lost all of his power, were you? You'd want to be quite sure he was the biggest bully in the playground before you went back to him, wouldn't you? Why else did you find a wizard family to take you in? Keeping an ear out for news, weren't you, Peter? Just in case your old protector regained strength, and it was safe to rejoin him…"

Pettigrew opened his mouth and closed it several times. He seemed to have lost the ability to talk.

"Er — Mr. Black — Sirius?" said Hermione.

Dad jumped at being addressed like this and stared at Hermione as though he had never seen anything quite like her.

"If you don't mind me asking, how — how did you get out of Azkaban, if you didn't use Dark Magic?"

"Thank you!" gasped Pettigrew, nodding frantically at her. "Exactly! Precisely what I —"

But uncle Moony silenced him with a look. Dad was frowning slightly at Hermione, but not as though he were annoyed with her. He seemed to be pondering his answer.

"I don't know how I did it," he said slowly. "I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn't a happy thought, so the Dementors couldn't suck it out of me… but it kept me sane and knowing who I am… helped me keep my powers… so when it all became… too much… I could transform in my cell… become a dog. Dementors can't see, you know…" He swallowed. "They feel their way toward people by feeding off their emotions… They could tell that my feelings were less — less human, less complex when I was a dog… but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn't trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a wand…"

"But then I saw Peter in that picture… I realized he was at Hogwarts with Harry… perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again…"

Pettigrew was shaking his head, mouthing noiselessly, but staring all the while at dad as though hypnotized.

"… ready to strike at the moment he could be sure of allies… and to deliver the last Potter to them. If he gave them Harry, who'd dare say he'd betrayed Lord Voldemort? He'd be welcomed back with honors… So you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive…"

"It was as if someone had lit a fire In my head, and the Dementors couldn't destroy it… It wasn't a happy feeling… it was an obsession… but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog… It's so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused… I was thin, very thin… thin enough to slip through the bars… I swam as a dog back to the mainland… I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog. I've been living in the forest ever since, except when I came to watch the Quidditch, of course. You fly as well as your father did, Harry…"

He looked at Harry, who did not look away.

"Believe me," croaked dad. "Believe me, Harry. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."

I looked at Harry to, I know I believed him, but would Harry?

And at long last, Harry nodded.

"No!"

Pettigrew had fallen to his knees as though Harry's nod had been his own death sentence. He shuffled forward on his knees, groveling, his hands clasped in front of him as though praying.

"Sirius — it's me… it's Peter… your friend… you wouldn't —"

Dad kicked out and Pettigrew recoiled.

"There's enough filth on my robes without you touching them," said Dad.

"Remus!" Pettigrew squeaked, turning to uncle Moony instead, writhing imploringly in front of him. "You don't believe this — wouldn't Sirius have told you they'd changed the plan?"

"Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter," said uncle Moony. "I assume that's why you didn't tell me, Sirius?" he said casually over Pettigrew's head.

"Forgive me, Remus," said dad.

"Not at all, Padfoot, old friend," said uncle Moony, who was now rolling up his sleeves. "And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?"

"Of course," said dad, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt face. He, too, began rolling up his sleeves. "Shall we kill him together?"

"Yes, I think so," said uncle Moony grimly.

"You wouldn't… you won't…" gasped Pettigrew. And he scrambled around to Ron.

"Ron… haven't I been a good friend… a good pet? You won't let them kill me, Ron, will you… you're on my side, aren't you?"

But Ron was staring at Pettigrew with the utmost revulsion.

"I let you sleep in my bed!" he said.

"Kind boy… kind master…" Pettigrew crawled toward Ron "You won't let them do it… I was your rat… I was a good pet…"

"If you made a better rat than a human, it's not much to boast about, Peter," said dad harshly.

Ron, going still paler with pain, wrenched his broken leg out of Pettigrew's reach. Pettigrew turned on his knees, staggered forward, and seized the hem of Hermione's robes.

"Sweet girl… clever girl… you — you won't let them… Help me…"

Hermione pulled her robes out of Pettigrew's clutching hands and backed away against the wall, looking horrified.

Pettigrew knelt, trembling uncontrollably, and turned his head slowly toward Harry.

"Harry… Harry… you look just like your father… just like him…"

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?" roared dad.

"HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?"

"Harry," whispered Pettigrew, shuffling toward him, hands outstretched. "Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed… James would have understood, Harry… he would have shown me mercy…"

Both dad and uncle Moony strode forward, seized Pettigrew's shoulders, and threw him backward onto the floor. He sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them.

"You sold Lily and James to Voldemort," said dad, who was shaking too. "Do you deny it?"

Pettigrew burst into tears. It was horrible to watch, like an oversized, balding baby, cowering on the floor.

"Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord… you have no idea… he has weapons you can't imagine… I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me —"

"DON'T LIE!" bellowed dad. "YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!"

"He — he was taking over everywhere!" gasped Pettigrew. "Wh-what was there to be gained by refusing him?"

"What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?" said dad, with a terrible fury in his face. "Only innocent lives, Peter!"

"You don't understand!" whined Pettigrew. "He would have killed me, Sirius!"

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" roared dad. "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"

Dad and uncle Moony stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised.

"You should have realized," said uncle Moony quietly, "if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Good-bye, Peter."

Hermione covered her face with her hands and turned to the wall.

"NO!" Harry yelled.

He ran forward, placing himself in front Pettigrew, facing the wands. "You can't kill him," he said breathlessly. "You can't."

Dad and uncle Moony both looked staggered.

"Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents," Dad snarled. "This cringing bit of filth would have seen you die too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family."

"Harry's right. You can't kill him, I won't let you. If you do and get caught, you will go to Azkaban again. I can't lose my father and my godfather. Where would I live?" I said to them and went to stand next to Harry.

Harry panted. "We'll take him up to the castle. We'll hand him over to the Dementors… He can go to Azkaban… but don't kill him."

"Harry! Aurora" gasped Pettigrew, and he flung his arms around Harry's knees. "You — thank you — it's more than I deserve — thank you —"

"Get off me," Harry spat, throwing Pettigrew's hands off him in disgust. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because — I don't reckon my dad would've wanted them to become killers — just for you."

No one moved or made a sound except Pettigrew, whose breath was coming in wheezes as he clutched his chest. Dad and uncle Moony were looking at each other. Then, with one movement, they lowered their wands.

"You're the only person who has the right to decide, Harry," said dad. "But think… think what he did…"

"He can go to Azkaban," Harry repeated. "If anyone deserves that place, he does…"

Pettigrew was still wheezing behind us.

"Very well," said uncle Moony. "Stand aside, Harry."

Harry hesitated.

"I'm going to tie him up," said uncle Moony. "That's all, I swear."

Harry stepped out of the way. Thin cords shot from uncle Moony's wand this time, and next moment, Pettigrew was wriggling on the floor, bound and gagged.

"But if you transform, Peter," growled dad, his own wand pointing at Pettigrew too, "we will kill you. You agree, Harry?"

Harry looked down at the pitiful figure on the floor and nodded so that Pettigrew could see him.

"Right," said uncle Moony, suddenly businesslike. "Ron, I can't mend bones nearly as well as Madam Pomfrey, so I think it's best if we just strap your leg up until we can get you to the hospital wing."

He hurried over to Ron, bent down, tapped Ron's leg with his wand, and muttered, "Ferula." Bandages spun up Ron's leg, strapping it tightly to a splint. Uncle Moony helped him to his feet; Ron put his weight gingerly on the leg and didn't wince.

"That's better," he said. "Thanks."

"What about Professor Snape?" said Hermione in a small voice, looking down at Snape's prone figure.

"There's nothing seriously wrong with him," said uncle Moony, bending over Snape and checking his pulse. "You were just a little — overenthusiastic. Still out cold. Er — perhaps it will be best if we don't revive him until we're safety back in the castle. We can take him like this…"

He muttered, "Mobilicorpus." As though invisible strings were tied to Snape's wrists, neck, and knees, he was pulled into a standing position, head still lolling unpleasantly, like a grotesque puppet. He hung a few inches above the ground, his limp feet dangling. Uncle Moony picked up the Invisibility Cloak and tucked it safely into his pocket.

"And two of us should be chained to this," said dad, nudging Pettigrew with his toe. "Just to make sure."

"I'll do it," said uncle Moony.

"And me," said Ron savagely, limping forward.

Dad conjured heavy manacles from thin air; soon Pettigrew was upright again, left arm chained to uncle Moony's right, right arm to Ron's left. Ron's face was set. He seemed to have taken Scabbers's true identity as a personal insult. Crookshanks leapt lightly off the bed and led the way out of the room, his bottlebrush tail held jauntily high.

**A/N: this was chapter 15, I'm almost there! So review and tell me what you think **


	16. The Dementor's Kiss

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything**

**Chapter 16: The Dementor's Kiss**

I had never been part of a stranger group. Crookshanks led the way down the stairs; uncle Moony, Pettigrew, and Ron went next, looking like entrants in a six-legged race. Next came Professor Snape, drifting creepily along, his toes hitting each stair as they descended, held up by his own wand, which was being pointed at him by dad. Harry, Hermione and me brought up the rear.

Getting back into the tunnel was difficult. Uncle Moony, Pettigrew, and Ron had to turn sideways to manage it; uncle Moony still had Pettigrew covered with his wand. I could see them edging awkwardly along the tunnel in single file. Crookshanks was still in the lead. I went right after dad, who was still making Snape drift along ahead of them; he kept bumping his lolling head on the low ceiling. I had the impression dad was making no effort to prevent this, not that I really cared.

"You know what this means?" dad said abruptly to us as we made our slow progress along the tunnel. "Turning Pettigrew in?"

"You're free," I said.

"Yes…" said dad. "But I'm also — I don't know if anyone ever told you, Harry — I'm your godfather."

"Yeah, I knew that," said Harry.

"Well… your parents appointed me your guardian," said dad stiffly. "If anything happened to them…"

I waited. Did dad mean what I thought he meant?

"I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle," said dad. "But… well… think about it. Once my name's cleared… if you wanted a… a different home…"

Some sort of explosion took place in the pit of my stomach.

"What — live with you?" Harry said, accidentally cracking his head on a bit of rock protruding from the ceiling. "Leave the Dursleys?"

"Harry living with us?" I asked.

"Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to," said dad quickly. "I understand, I just thought I'd —"

"Are you insane?" said Harry, his voice easily as croaky as Black's. "Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?"

"That would be awesome! Wait do we have a house? I thought our house was sold?" I said.

Dad turned right around to look at us; Snape's head was scraping the ceiling but dad didn't seem to care.

"You want to?" he said. "You mean it? And you would be okay with this Aurora?"

"Yeah, I mean it!" said Harry.

"Of course! Are you kidding me, I would love that! It would make up for all the birthday and Christmas present you've forgotten." I said to him with a smirk.

Dad's gaunt face broke into the first true smile I had seen upon it. The difference it made was startling, as though a person ten years younger were shining through the starved mask; for a moment, he was recognizable as the man who had laughed at his wedding.

"I'll make it up to you, Aurora, I promise!" he said.

We did not speak again until we had reached the end of the tunnel. Crookshanks darted up first; he had evidently pressed his paw to the knot on the trunk, because uncle Moony, Pettigrew, and Ron clambered upward without any sound of savaging branches.

Dad saw Snape up through the hole, then stood back for Harry, Hermione and me to pass. At last, all of us were out.

The grounds were very dark now; the only light came from the distant windows of the castle. Without a word, we set off. Pettigrew was still wheezing and occasionally whimpering. my mind was buzzing. I was going to live with Sirius Black, my father. And Harry was going to live with us … I felt dazed… Living together with my father, my godfather and my best friend. I smile broke out on my face.

"One wrong move, Peter," said uncle Moony threateningly ahead. His wand was still pointed sideways at Pettigrew's chest.

Silently we tramped through the grounds, the castle lights growing slowly larger. Snape was still drifting weirdly ahead of dad, his chin bumping on his chest. And then –

A cloud shifted. There were suddenly dim shadows on the ground. Our party was bathed in moonlight.

Snape collided with uncle Moony, Pettigrew, and Ron, who had stopped abruptly. Dad froze. He flung out one arm to make Harry, Hermione and me stop.

I could see uncle Moony's silhouette. He had gone rigid. Then his limbs began to shake.

"Oh, my —" I gasped. "He didn't take his potion tonight! He's not safe!"

"Run," dad whispered. "Run. Now."

But I couldn't run. Ron was chained to Pettigrew and uncle Moony. Harry leapt forward but dad caught him around the chest and threw him back.

"Leave it to me — RUN!"

There was a terrible snarling noise. Uncle Moony's head was lengthening. So was his body. His shoulders were hunching. Hair was sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were curling into clawed paws. Crookshanks's hair was on end again; he was backing away —

As the werewolf reared, snapping its long jaws, dad disappeared from Harry's side. He had transformed. The enormous, bearlike dog bounded forward. As the werewolf wrenched itself free of the manacle binding it, the dog seized it about the neck and pulled it backward, away from Ron and Pettigrew. They were locked, jaw to jaw, claws ripping at each other.

I stood, transfixed by the sight, too intent upon the battle to notice anything else. It was Hermione's scream that alerted me — Pettigrew had dived for uncle Moony's dropped wand. Ron, unsteady on his bandaged leg, fell. There was a bang, a burst of light — and Ron lay motionless on the ground.

Another bang — Crookshanks flew into the air and back to the earth in a heap.

"Expelliarmus." Harry yelled, pointing his own wand at Pettigrew; uncle Moony's wand flew high into the air and out of sight. "Stay where you are!" Harry shouted, running forward.

Too late. Pettigrew had transformed. I saw his bald tail whip through the manacle on Ron's outstretched arm and heard a scurrying through the grass.

There was a howl and a rumbling growl; I turned to see the werewolf taking flight; it was galloping into the forest —

"Dad, he's gone, Pettigrew transformed!" I yelled.

Dad was bleeding; there were gashes across his muzzle and back, but at my words he scrambled up again, and in an instant, the sound of his paws faded to silence as he pounded away across the grounds.

Harry, Hermione and me dashed over to Ron.

"What did he do to him?" Hermione whispered. Ron's eyes were only half-closed, his mouth hung open; he was definitely alive, we could hear him breathing, but he didn't seem to recognize us.

"I don't know…"

I looked desperately around. Dad and uncle Moony both gone… they had no one but Snape for company, still hanging, unconscious, in midair.

"We'd better get them up to the castle and tell someone," said Harry, pushing his hair out of his eyes, "Come —"

But then, from beyond the range of our vision, we heard a yelping, a whining: a dog in pain…

"Dad," Harry muttered, staring into the darkness.

I had a moment's indecision, but there was nothing we could do for Ron at the moment, and by the sound of it, dad was in trouble —

I set off at a run, Hermione and Harry right behind me. The yelping seemed to be coming from the ground near the edge of the lake. We pelted toward it, and I, running flat out, felt the cold without realizing what it must mean –

The yelping stopped abruptly. As we reached the lakeshore, we saw why — dad had turned back into a man. He was crouched on all fours, his hands over his head.

"Nooo," he moaned. "Nooo… please…"

And then I saw them. Dementors, at least a hundred of them, gliding in a black mass around the lake toward them. I spun around, the familiar, icy cold penetrating his insides, fog starting to obscure my vision; more were appearing out of the darkness on every side; they were encircling us…

"Hermione, think of something happy!" I yelled, raising my wand, blinking furiously to try and clear my vision, shaking my head to rid it of the faint screaming that had started inside it —

I'm going to live with my father. Harry is moving in with us.

I forced myself to think of dad, and only dad, and began to chant: "Expecto patronum! Expecto patronum!"

Dad gave a shudder, rolled over, and lay motionless on the ground, pale as death.

He'll be all right. I'm going to go and live with him.

"Expecto patronum! Hermione, Harry help me! Expecto patronum!"

"Expecto —" Hermione whispered, "expecto — expecto —"

But she couldn't do it. The Dementors were closing in, barely ten feet from them. They formed a solid wall around Harry, Hermione and me, and were getting closer…

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" I yelled, trying to blot the screaming from his ears. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A thin wisp of silver escaped my wand and hovered like mist before me. Harry was in the same situation, only a thin wisp of silver in front of him. At the same moment, I felt Hermione collapse next to me. Only me and Harry now…

"Expecto — expecto patronum —"

I felt my knees hit the cold grass. Fog was clouding my eyes. With a huge effort, I fought to remember — dad was innocent — innocent — We'll be okay — I'm going to live with him —

"Expecto patronum!" he gasped.

By the feeble light of my formless Patronus, I saw a Dementor halt, very close to me. It couldn't walk through the cloud of silver mist I had conjured. A dead, slimy hand slid out from under the cloak. It made a gesture as though to sweep the Patronus aside.

"No — no —" I gasped. "He's innocent… expecto expecto patronum —"

I heard Harry falling to, I was alone now, completely alone…

I could feet them watching me, hear their rattling breath like an evil wind around me. The nearest Dementor seemed to be considering me. Then it raised both its rotting hands — and lowered its hood.

Where there should have been eyes, there was only thin, gray scabbed skin, stretched blankly over empty sockets. But there was a mouth… a gaping, shapeless hole, sucking the air with the sound of a death rattle.

A paralyzing terror filled me so that I couldn't move or speak. My Patronus flickered and died.

White fog was blinding me. I had to fight… expecto patronum… I couldn't see… and in the distance, I heard the familiar screaming… expecto patronum… I groped in the mist for dad, and found his arm… they weren't going to take him…

But a pair of strong, clammy hands suddenly attached themselves around my neck. They were forcing my face upward… I could feel its breath… It was going to get rid of me first… I could feel its putrid breath… My mother was screaming in my ears… She was going to be the last thing I ever heard —

And then, through the fog that was drowning me, I thought I saw a silvery light growing brighter and brighter… Another light joining the first. I felt myself fall forward onto the grass… Facedown, too weak to move, sick and shaking, I opened my eyes. The Dementor must have released me. The blinding light was illuminating the grass around … The screaming had stopped, the cold was ebbing away…

Something was driving the Dementors back… It was circling around me and dad. Another one was circling around Harry and Hermione… They were leaving…

The air was warm again…

With every ounce of strength I could muster, I raised my head a few inches and saw two animals amid the light, one galloping away across the lake, the other running… Eyes blurred with sweat, I tried to make out what they were… They were as bright as a unicorn… Fighting to stay conscious, I watched them come to a halt as they reached the opposite shore. For a moment, I saw, by its brightness, somebody welcoming them back… raising her hand to pat it… someone who looked strangely familiar… but it couldn't be…

I didn't understand. I couldn't think anymore. I felt the last of my strength leave me, and my head hit the ground as I fainted.

**A/N: you all know what to do, review! Thank you **


	17. Hermione's secret

**A/N: I don't own anything.**

**Chapter 17: Hermione's secret**

"Shocking business… shocking… miracle none of them died… never heard the like…bythunder, it was lucky you were there, Snape…"

"Thank you, Minister."

"Order of Merlin, Second Class, I'd say. First Class, if I can wangle it!"

"Thank you very much indeed, Minister."

"Nasty cut you've got there… Black's work, I suppose?"

"As a matter of fact, it was Potter, Weasley, Black and Granger, Minister…"

"No!"

"Black had bewitched them, I saw it immediately. A Confundus Charm, to judge by their behavior. They seemed to think there was a possibility he was innocent. They weren't responsible for their actions. On the other hand, their interference might have permitted Black to escape… They obviously thought they were going to catch Black single-handed. They've got away with a great deal before now… I'm afraid it's given them a rather high opinion of themselves… and of course Potter has always been allowed an extraordinary amount of license by the headmaster —"

"Ah, well, Snape… Harry Potter, you know… we've all got a bit of a blind spot where he's concerned."

"And yet — is it good for him to be given so much special treatment? Personally, I try and treat him like any other student. And any other student would be suspended — at the very least — for leading his friends into such danger. Consider, Minister — against all school rules — after all the precautions put in place for his protection — out-of-bounds, at night, consorting with a werewolf and a murderer — and I have reason to believe he has been visiting Hogsmeade illegally too —"

"Well, well… we shall see, Snape, we shall see… The boy has undoubtedly been foolish…"

I lay listening with my eyes tight shut. I felt very groggy. The words I was hearing seemed to be traveling very slowly from my ears to my brain, so that it was difficult to understand… My limbs felt like lead; my eyelids too heavy to lift… I wanted to lie here, on this comfortable bed, forever…

"What amazes me most is the behavior of the Dementors… you've really no idea what made them retreat, Snape?"

"No, Minister… by the time I had come 'round they were heading back to their positions at the entrances…"

"Extraordinary. And yet Black, and Harry, and the two girls —"

"All unconscious by the time I reached them. I bound and gagged Black, naturally, conjured stretchers, and brought them all straight back to the castle."

There was a pause. My brain seemed to be moving a little faster, and as it did, a gnawing sensation grew in the pit of my stomach…

I opened my eyes.

Everything was slightly blurred. I was lying in the dark hospital wing. At the very end of the ward,I could make out Madam Pomfrey with her back to me, bending over a bed. I squinted. Ron's red hair was visible beneath Madam Pomfrey's arm.

I moved my head over on the pillow. In the bed to my right lay Hermione. Moonlight was falling across her bed. Her eyes were open too. She looked petrified, and when she saw that I was awake, pressed a finger to her lips, then pointed to the hospital wing door. It was ajar, and the voices of Cornelius Fudge and Snape were coming through it from the corridor outside.

Harry lay on my left side and he was awake to. He was looking at me, I could see the light reflecting in his eyes.

Madam Pomfrey now came walking briskly up the dark ward to Harry's bed. He turned to look at her. She was carrying the largest block of chocolate I had ever seen in his life. It looked like a small boulder.

"Ah, you're awake!" she said briskly. She placed the chocolate on Harry's bedside table and began breaking it apart with a small hammer.

"How's Ron?" said Harry, Hermione and me together.

"He'll live," said Madam Pomfrey grimly. "As for you three, you'll be staying here until I'm satisfied you're — Potter, what do you think you're doing?"

Harry was sitting up, putting his glasses back on, and picking up his wand.

"I need to see the headmaster," he said.

"Potter," said Madam Pomfrey soothingly, "it's all right. They've got Black. He's locked away upstairs. The Dementors will be performing the kiss any moment now —"

"WHAT?"

I jumped up out of bed; Hermione and Harry had done the same. But my shout had been heard in the corridor outside; next second, Cornelius Fudge and Snape had entered the ward.

"Harry, Harry, what's this?" said Fudge, looking agitated. "You should be in bed — has he had any chocolate?" he asked Madam Pomfrey anxiously.

"Minister, listen!" Harry said. "Sirius Black's innocent! Peter Pettigrew faked his own death! We saw him tonight! You can't let the Dementors do that thing to Sirius, he's —"

But Fudge was shaking his head with a small smile on his face.

"Harry, Harry, you're very confused, you've been through a dreadful ordeal, lie back down, now, we've got everything under control…"

"YOU HAVEN'T!" I yelled. "YOU'VE GOT THE WRONG MAN!"

"Minister, listen, please," Hermione said; she had hurried to mine and Harry's side and was gazing imploringly into Fudge's face.

"I saw him too. It was Ron's rat, he's an Animagus, Pettigrew, I mean, and —"

"You see, Minister?" said Snape. "Confunded, all of them… Black's done a very good job on them…"

"WE'RE NOT CONFUNDED!" Harry roared.

"Minister! Professor!" said Madam Pomfrey angrily. "I must insist that you leave. Potter is my patient, and he should not be distressed!"

"I'm not distressed, I'm trying to tell them what happened!" Harry said furiously. "If they'd just listen —"

But Madam Pomfrey suddenly stuffed a large chunk of chocolate into Harry"s mouth; he choked, and she seized the opportunity to force him back onto the bed.

"Now, please, Minister, these children need care. Please leave."

The door opened again. It was Dumbledore. Harry swallowed his mouthful of chocolate with great difficulty and got up again.

"Professor Dumbledore, Sirius Black —"

"For heaven's sake!" said Madam Pomfrey hysterically. "Is this a hospital wing or not? Headmaster, I must insist —"

"My apologies, Poppy, but I need a word with Mr. Potter, Miss Granger and Miss Black," said Dumbledore calmly. "I have just been talking to Sirius Black —"

"I suppose he's told you the same fairy tale he's planted in Potter's mind?" spat Snape. "Something about a rat, and Pettigrew being alive —"

"That, indeed, is Black's story," said Dumbledore, surveying Snape closely through his half-moon spectacles.

"And does my evidence count for nothing?" snarled Snape. "Peter Pettigrew was not in the Shrieking Shack, nor did I see any sign of him on the grounds."

"That was because you were knocked out, Professor!" said Hermione earnestly. "You didn't arrive in time to hear."

"Miss Granger, HOLD YOUR TONGUE!"

"Now, Snape," said Fudge, startled, "the young lady is disturbed in her mind, we must make allowances —"

"I would like to speak to Harry, Hermione and Aurora alone," said Dumbledore abruptly. "Cornelius, Severus, Poppy — please leave us."

"Headmaster!" sputtered Madam Pomfrey. "They need treatment, they need rest —"

"This cannot wait," said Dumbledore. "I must insist."

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips and strode away into her office at the end of the ward, slamming the door behind her. Fudge consulted the large gold pocket watch dangling from his waistcoat.

"The Dementors should have arrived by now," he said. "I'll go and meet them. Dumbledore, I'll see you upstairs."

He crossed to the door and held it open for Snape, but Snape hadn't moved.

"You surely don't believe a word of Black's story?" Snape whispered, his eyes fixed on Dumbledore's face.

"I wish to speak to Harry, Hermione and Aurora alone," Dumbledore repeated.

Snape took a step toward Dumbledore.

"Sirius Black showed he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen," he breathed.

"You haven't forgotten that, Headmaster? You haven't forgotten that he once tried to kill me?"

"My memory is as good as it ever was, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly.

Snape turned on his heel and marched through the door Fudge was still holding. It closed behind them, and Dumbledore turned to Harry, Hermione and me. We burst into speech at the same time.

"Professor, Black's telling the truth — we saw Pettigrew — he escaped when Professor Lupin turned into a werewolf —"

"— he's a rat —"

"— Pettigrew's front paw, I mean, finger, he cut it off —"

"— Pettigrew attacked Ron, it wasn't Sirius —"

But Dumbledore held up his hand to stem the flood of explanations.

"It is your turn to listen, and I beg you will not interrupt me, because there is very little time," he said quietly. "There is not a shred of proof to support Black's story, except your word — and the word of three thirteen-year-old wizards will not convince anybody. A street full of eyewitnesses swore they saw Sirius murder Pettigrew. I myself gave evidence to the Ministry that Sirius had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper."

"Professor Lupin can tell you —" Harry said, unable to stop himself

"Professor Lupin is currently deep in the forest, unable to tell anyone anything. By the time he is human again, it will be too late, Sirius will be worse than dead. I might add that werewolves are so mistrusted by most of our kind that his support will count for very little and the fact that he and Sirius are old friends —"

"But —"

"Listen to me, Harry. It is too late, you understand me? You must see that Professor Snape's version of events is far more convincing than yours."

"He hates Sirius," Hermione said desperately. "All because of some stupid trick Sirius played on him —"

"Sirius has not acted like an innocent man. The attack on the Fat Lady — entering Gryffindor Tower with a knife — without Pettigrew, alive or dead, we have no chance of overturning Sirius's sentence."

"But you believe us."

"Yes, I do," said Dumbledore quietly. "But I have no power to make other men see the truth, or to overrule the Minister of Magic…"

I stared up into the grave face and felt as though the ground beneath me were falling sharply away. I had grown used to the idea that Dumbledore could solve anything. I had expected Dumbledore to pull some amazing solution out of the air. But no… our last hope was gone.

"What we need," said Dumbledore slowly, and his light blue eyes moved from Harry to Hermione, "is more time."

"But —" Hermione began. And then her eyes became very round. "OH!"

"Now, pay attention," said Dumbledore, speaking very low, and very clearly. "Sirius is locked in Professor Flitwick's office on the seventh floor. Thirteenth window from the right of the West Tower. If all goes well, you will be able to save more than one innocent life tonight. But remember this: you must not be seen. Miss Granger, you know the law — you know what is at stake… You — must — not — be —seen."

I didn't have a clue what was going on. Dumbledore had turned on his heel and looked back as he reached the door.

"I am going to lock you in. It is —" he consulted his watch, "five minutes to midnight. Miss Granger, three turns should do it. Good luck."

"Good luck?" Harry repeated as the door closed behind Dumbledore. "Three turns? What's he talking about? What are we supposed to do?"

But Hermione was fumbling with the neck of her robes, pulling from beneath them a very long, very fine gold chain.

"Harry, Aurora come here," she said urgently. "Quick!"

I moved toward her, completely bewildered.

She was holding the chain out. I saw a tiny, sparkling hourglass hanging from it.

"Here —"

She had thrown the chain around Harry's and my neck too.

"Ready?" she said breathlessly.

"What are we doing?" Harry said, completely lost.

Hermione turned the hourglass over three times.

The dark ward dissolved. I had the sensation that I was flying very fast, backward. A blur of colors and shapes rushed past me, my ears were pounding, I tried to yell but couldn't hear my own voice —

And then I felt solid ground beneath my feet, and everything came into focus again —

I was standing next to Hermione and Harry in the deserted entrance hall and a stream of golden sunlight was falling across the paved floor from the open front doors. I looked wildly around at Hermione, the chain of the hourglass cutting into my neck.

"Hermione, what —?"

"In here!" Hermione seized Harry's and my arm and dragged us across the hall to the door of a broom closet; she opened it, pushed us inside among the buckets and mops, then slammed the door behind us.

"What — how — Hermione, what happened?"

"We've gone back in time," Hermione whispered, lifting the chain off Harry's and my neck in the darkness. "Three hours back…"

"But —"

"Shh! Listen! Someone's coming! I think — I think it might be us!" Hermione had her ear pressed against the cupboard door.

"Footsteps across the hall… yes, I think it's us going down to Hagrid's!"

"Are you telling me," Harry whispered, "that we're here in this cupboard and we're out there too?"

"Yes," said Hermione, her ear still glued to the cupboard door. "I'm sure it's us. It doesn't sound like more than four people… and we're walking slowly because we're under the Invisibility Cloak — " She broke off, still listening intently. "We've gone down the front steps…"

Hermione sat down on an upturned bucket, looking desperately anxious, but I wanted a few questions answered.

"Where did you get that Time-Turner?"

Hermione whispered " I got it from Professor McGonagall on our first day back. I've been using it all year to get to all my lessons. Professor McGonagall made me swear I wouldn't tell anyone. She had to write all sorts of letters to the Ministry of Magic so I could have one. She had to tell them that I was a model student, and that I'd never, ever use it for anything except my studies… I've been turning it back so I could do hours over again, that's how I've been doing several lessons at once, see? But…"

"Aurora, I don't understand what Dumbledore wants us to do. Why did he tell us to go back three hours? How's that going to help Sirius?"

I stared at her shadowy face.

"There must be something that happened around now he wants us to change," I said slowly. "What happened? We were walking down to Hagrid's three hours ago…"

"This is three hours ago, and we are walking down to Hagrid's," said Hermione. "We just heard ourselves leaving…"

I frowned; I felt as though I were screwing up my whole brain in concentration.

"Dumbledore just said — just said we could save more than one innocent life…" And then it hit me. "Hermione, we're going to save Buckbeak!"

"But — how will that help Sirius?"

"Dumbledore said — he just told us where the window is — the window of Flitwick's office! Where they've got dad locked up! We've got to fly Buckbeak up to the window and rescue dad! Dad can escape on Buckbeak — they can escape together!"

From what I could see of Hermione's face, she looked terrified.

"If we manage that without being seen, it'll be a miracle!"

"Well, we've got to try, haven't we?" said Harry. He stood up and pressed his ear against the door. "Doesn't sound like anyone's there… Come on, let's go."

Harry pushed open the closet door. The entrance hall was deserted. As quietly and quickly as we could, we darted out of the closet and down the stone steps. The shadows were already lengthening, the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest gilded once more with gold.

"If anyone's looking out of the window —" Hermione squeaked, looking up at the castle behind them.

"We'll run for it," said Harry determinedly. "Straight into the forest, all right? We'll have to hide behind a tree or something and keep a lookout —"

"Okay, but we'll go around by the greenhouses!' said Hermione breathlessly. "We need to keep out of sight of Hagrid's front door, or we'll see us! We must be nearly at Hagrid's by now!"

Still working out what she meant, I set off at a sprint, right behind Harry and Hermione behind me. We tore across the vegetable gardens to the greenhouses, paused for a moment behind them, then set off again, fast as we could, skirting around the Whomping Willow, tearing toward the shelter of the forest…

Safe in the shadows of the trees, Harry turned around; seconds later, Hermione arrived beside me, panting.

"Right," she gasped. "We need to sneak over to Hagrid's… Keep out of sight, Harry, Aurora…"

We made our way silently through the trees, keeping to the very edge of the forest. Then, as we glimpsed the front of Hagrid's house, we heard a knock upon his door. We moved quickly behind a wide oak trunk and peered out from either side. Hagrid had appeared in his doorway, shaking and white, looking around to see who had knocked. And I heard Harry's voice.

"It's us. We're wearing the Invisibility Cloak. Let us in and we can take it off."

"Yeh shouldn've come!" Hagrid whispered. He stood back, then shut the door quickly.

"This is the weirdest thing we've ever done," Harry said fervently.

"Let's move along a bit," Hermione whispered. "We need to get nearer to Buckbeak!"

We crept through the trees until we saw the nervous Hippogriff, tethered to the fence around Hagrid's pumpkin patch.

"Now?" Harry whispered.

"No!" I said. "If we steal him now, those Committee people will think Hagrid set him free! We've got to wait until they've seen he's tied outside!"

"That's going to give us about sixty seconds," said Harry. This was starting to seem impossible.

At that moment, there was a crash of breaking china from inside Hagrid's cabin.

"That's Hagrid breaking the milk jug," Hermione whispered. "I'm going to find Scabbers in a moment —"

Sure enough, a few minutes later, we heard Hermione's shriek of surprise.

"Hermione," said Harry suddenly, "what if we — we just run in there and grab Pettigrew —"

"No!" said Hermione in a terrified whisper. "Don't you understand? We're breaking one of the most important wizarding laws! Nobody's supposed to change time, nobody! You heard Dumbledore, if we're seen —"

"We'd only be seen by ourselves and Hagrid!"

"Harry, what do you think you'd do if you saw yourself bursting into Hagrid's house?" I said.

"I'd — I'd think I'd gone mad," said Harry, "or I'd think there was some Dark Magic going on —"

"Exactly! You wouldn't understand, you might even attack yourself! Don't you see? Professor McGonagall told me what awful things have happened when wizards have meddled with time… Loads of them ended up killing their past or future selves by mistake!"

"Okay!" said Harry. "It was just an idea, I just thought —"

But Hermione nudged him and pointed toward the castle. I moved myhead a few inches to get a clear view of the distant front doors. Dumbledore, Fudge, the old Committee member, and Macnair the executioner were coming down the steps.

"We're about to come out!" Hermione breathed.

And sure enough, moments later, Hagrid's back door opened, and I saw myself, Ron, Harry and Hermione walking out of it with Hagrid. It was, without a doubt, the strangest sensation of my life, standing behind the tree, and watching myself in the pumpkin patch.

"It's Okay, Beaky, it's okay…" Hagrid said to Buckbeak. Then he turned to Harry, Ron, Hermione and me. "Go on. Get goin'."

"Hagrid, we can't —"

"We'll tell them what really happened —"

"They can't kill him —"

"Go! It's bad enough without you lot in trouble an' all!"

I watched the Hermione in the pumpkin patch throw the Invisibility Cloak over Harry, Ron and me.

"Go quick. Don' listen…"

There was a knock on Hagrid's front door. The execution party had arrived. Hagrid turned, around and headed back into his cabin, leaving the back door ajar. I watched the grass flatten in patches all around the cabin and heard four pairs of feet retreating. Harry, Ron, Hermione and me had gone… but the Harry, Hermione and me hidden in the trees could now hear what was happening inside the cabin through the back door.

"Where is the beast?" came the cold voice of Macnair.

"Out — outside," Hagrid croaked.

Harry pulled his head out of sight as Macnair's face appeared at Hagrid's window, staring out at Buckbeak. Then we heard Fudge.

"We — er — have to read you the official notice of execution, Hagrid. I'll make it quick. And then you and Macnair need to sign it. Macnair, You're supposed to listen too, that's procedure-"

Macnair's face vanished from the window. It was now or never.

"Wait here," Harry whispered to Hermione and me. "I'll do it."

As Fudge's voice started again, Harry darted out from behind his tree, vaulted the fence into the pumpkin patch, and approached Buckbeak.

"It is the decision of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures that the Hippogriff Buckbeak, hereafter called the condemned, shall he executed on the sixth of June at sundown—"

Careful not to blink, Harry stared up into Buckbeak's fierce orange eyes once more and bowed. Buckbeak sank to his scaly knees and then stood up again. Harry began to fumble with the knot of rope tying Buckbeak to the fence.

"… sentenced to execution by beheading, to be carried out by the Committee's appointed executioner, Walden Macnair…"

"Come on, Buckbeak," Harry murmured, "come on, we're going to help you. Quietly… quietly…"

"… as witnessed below. Hagrid, you sign here…"

Harry threw all his weight onto the rope, but Buckbeak had dug in his front feet.

"Well, let's get this over with," said the reedy voice of the Committee member from inside Hagrid's cabin. "Hagrid, perhaps it will be better if you stay inside —"

"No, I — I wan' ter be with him… I don' wan' him ter be alone —"

Footsteps echoed from within the cabin.

"Buckbeak, move!" Harry hissed.

Harry tugged harder on the rope around Buckbeak's neck. The Hippogriff began to walk, rustling its wings irritably. They were still ten feet away from the forest, in plain view of Hagrid's back door.

"One moment, please, Macnair," came Dumbledore's voice. "You need to sign too." The footsteps stopped. Harry heaved on the rope. Buckbeak snapped his beak and walked a little faster.

Hermione's white face was sticking out from behind a tree.

"Harry, hurry!" she mouthed to him, afraid to make any sound.

I could still hear Dumbledore's voice talking from within the cabin. Harry gave the rope another wrench. Buckbeak broke into a grudging trot. They had reached the trees…

"Quick! Quick!" Hermione moaned, darting out from behind her tree, me following her, seizing the rope too and adding our weight to make Buckbeak move faster. I looked over my shoulder; we were now blocked from sight; we couldn't see Hagrid's garden at all.

"Stop!" I whispered to Hermione and Harry. "They might hear us."

Hagrid's back door had opened with a bang. Harry, Hermione, Buckbeak and me stood quite still; even the Hippogriff seemed to be listening intently. Silence… then —

"Where is it?" said the reedy voice of the Committee member. "Where is the beast?"

"It was tied here!" said the executioner furiously. "I saw it! Just here!"

"How extraordinary," said Dumbledore. There was a note of amusement in his voice.

"Beaky!" said Hagrid huskily.

There was a swishing noise, and the thud of an axe. The executioner seemed to have swung it into the fence in anger. And then came the howling, and this time we could hear Hagrid's words through his sobs.

"Gone! Gone! Bless his little beak, he's gone! Musta pulled himself free! Beaky, yeh clever boy!"

Buckbeak started to strain against the rope, trying to get back to Hagrid. Harry, Hermione and me tightened our grip and dug our heels into the forest floor to stop him.

"Someone untied him!" the executioner was snarling. "We should search the grounds, the forest."

"Macnair, if Buckbeak has indeed been stolen, do you really think the thief will have led him away on foot?" said Dumbledore, still sounding amused. "Search the skies, if you will… Hagrid, I could do with a cup of tea. Or a large brandy."

"O' — o' course, Professor," said Hagrid, who sounded weak with happiness. "Come in, come in…"

We listened closely. We heard footsteps, the soft cursing of the executioner, the snap of the door, and then silence once more.

"Now what?" whispered Harry, looking around.

"We'll have to hide in here," said Hermione, who looked very shaken. "We need to wait until they've gone back to the castle. Then we wait until it's safe to fly Buckbeak up to Sirius's window. He won't be there for another couple of hours… Oh, this is going to be difficult…"

She looked nervously over her shoulder into the depths of the forest. The sun was setting now.

"We're going to have to move," I said, thinking hard. "We've got to be able to see the Whomping Willow, or we won't know what's going on."

"Okay," said Hermione, getting a firmer grip on Buckbeak's rope. "But we've got to keep out of sight, remember…"

We moved around the edge of the forest, darkness falling thickly around us, until we were hidden behind a clump of trees through which we could make out the Willow.

"There's Ron!" said Harry suddenly.

A dark figure was sprinting across the lawn and its shout echoed through the still night air.

"Get away from him — get away — Scabbers, come here —"

And then they saw three more figures materialize out of nowhere. I watched myself, Harry and Hermione chasing after Ron. Then I saw Ron dive.

"Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat —"

"There's Sirius!" said Harry. The great shape of the dog had bounded out from the roots of the Willow. We saw him bowl Harry over, then seize on…

"Looks even worse from here, doesn't it?" said Harry, watching the dog pulling Ron into the roots.

"Ouch — look, I just got walloped by the tree — and so did you — this is weird —"

The Whomping Willow was creaking and lashing out with its lower branches; we could see ourselves darting here and there, trying to reach the trunk. And then the tree froze.

"That was Crookshanks pressing the knot," said Hermione.

"And there we go…" Harry muttered. "We're in."

The moment they disappeared, the tree began to move again. Seconds later, they heard footsteps quite close by. Dumbledore, Macnair, Fudge, and the old Committee member were making their way up to the castle.

"Right after we'd gone down into the passage!" said Hermione. "If only Dumbledore had come with us…"

"Macnair and Fudge would've come too," said Harry bitterly. "I bet you anything Fudge would've told Macnair to murder Sirius on the spot…"

We watched the four men climb the castle steps and disappear from view. For a few minutes the scene was deserted. Then —

"Here comes uncle Moony!" I said as we saw another figure sprinting down the stone steps and halting toward the Willow. I looked up at the sky. Clouds were obscuring the moon completely.

We watched uncle Moony seize a broken branch from the ground and prod the knot on the trunk. The tree stopped fighting, and uncle Moony, too, disappeared into the gap in its roots.

"If he'd only grabbed the cloak," said Harry. "It's just lying there…"

He turned to Hermione.

"If I just dashed out now and grabbed it, Snape'd never be able to get it and —"

"Harry, we mustn't be seen!"

"How can you stand this?" he asked Hermione fiercely. "Just standing here and watching it happen?" He hesitated. "I'm going to grab the cloak!"

"Harry, no!"

I seized the back of Harry's robes not a moment too soon. Just then, we heard a burst of song. It was Hagrid, making his way up to the castle, singing at the top of his voice, and weaving slightly as he walked. A large bottle was swinging from his hands.

"See?" Hermione whispered. "See what would have happened? We've got to keep out of sight! No, Buckbeak!"

The Hippogriff was making frantic attempts to get to Hagrid again; Harry seized his rope too, straining to hold Buckbeak back. We watched Hagrid meander tipsily up to the castle. He was gone. Buckbeak stopped fighting to get away. His head drooped sadly.

Barely two minutes later, the castle doors flew open yet again, and Snape came charging out of them, running toward the Willow.

Harry's fists clenched as they watched Snape skid to a halt next to the tree, looking around. He grabbed the cloak and held it up.

"Get your filthy hands off it," Harry snarled under his breath.

"Shh!"

Snape seized the branch uncle Moony had used to freeze the tree, prodded the knot, and vanished from view as he put on the cloak.

"So that's it," said Hermione quietly. "We're all down there… and now we've just got to wait until we come back up again…"

She took the end of Buckbeak's rope and tied it securely around the nearest tree, then sat down on the dry ground, arms around her knees.

"Harry, Aurora, there's something I don't understand… Why didn't the Dementors get Sirius? I remember them coming, and then I think I passed out… there were so many of them…"

I sat down too. I explained what I'd seen; how, as the nearest Dementor had lowered its mouth to mine, two large silver somethings had come galloping and running across the lake and forced the Dementors to retreat.

Hermione's mouth was slightly open by the time I had finished.

"I saw the same thing, I was still awake but I had no strength left to do something."

"But what was it?"

"There's only one thing it could have been, to make the Dementors go," said Harry. "A real Patronus. A powerful one."

"But who conjured it?"

I didn't say anything. I was thinking back to the person I'd seen on the other bank of the lake. I knew who I thought it had been… but how could it have been?

"Didn't you see what they looked like?" said Hermione eagerly. "Was it one of the teachers?"

"No," said Harry. "He wasn't a teacher."

"But it must have been a really powerful wizard, to drive all those Dementors away… If the Patronus was shining so brightly, didn't it light him up? Couldn't you see —?"

"Yeah, I saw him," said Harry slowly. "But… maybe I imagined it… I wasn't thinking straight… I passed out right afterward…"

I looked at him. "I saw a woman, but it couldn't be her, it just couldn't!"

"Who did you think it was?"

"I think —" I swallowed, knowing how strange this was going to sound. "I think it was my mother."

"My dad," Harry said.

I glanced up at Hermione and saw that her mouth was fully open now. She was gazing at us with a mixture of alarm and pity.

"Harry, your dad's — well — dead," she said quietly. "And your mother to, Aurora."

"I know that," said Harry quickly.

"Me to," I said.

"You think you saw their ghost?"

"I don't know… no… he looked solid…"

"But then —"

"Maybe I was seeing things," said Harry. "But… from what I could see… it looked like him… I've got photos of him…"

Hermione was still looking at us as though worried about our sanity.

"I know it sounds crazy," I said flatly. I turned to look at Buckbeak, who was digging his beak into the ground, apparently searching for worms. But I wasn't really watching Buckbeak.

I was thinking about my father and about my father's three oldest friends… Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs… Had all four of them been out on the grounds tonight? Wormtail had reappeared this evening when everyone had thought he was dead… Was it so impossible that the father of Harry had done the same? And that my mother was here as well. Finally being proven right?

Had I been seeing things across the take? The figure had been too far away to see distinctly… yet I had felt sure, for a moment, before I'd lost consciousness…

The leaves overhead rustled faintly in the breeze. The moon drifted in and out of sight behind the shifting clouds. Hermione sat with her face turned toward the Willow, waiting.

And then, at last, after over an hour…

"Here we come!" Hermione whispered.

She, Harry and me got to our feet. Buckbeak raised his head. We saw uncle Moony, Ron, and Pettigrew clambering awkwardly out of the hole in the roots. Then came Hermione… then the unconscious Snape, drifting weirdly upward. Next came Harry, me and dad. They all began to walk toward the castle.

My heart was starting to beat very fast. I glanced up at the sky. Any moment now, that cloud was going to move aside and show the moon…

"Harry," Hermione muttered as though she knew exactly what he was thinking, "we've got to stay put. We mustn't be seen. There's nothing we can do…"

"So we're just going to let Pettigrew escape all over again…" said Harry quietly.

"How do you expect to find a rat in the dark?" snapped Hermione. "There's nothing we can do! We came back to help Sirius; we're not supposed to be doing anything else!"

"All right!"

The moon slid out from behind its cloud. They saw the tiny figures across the grounds stop. Then they saw movement —

"There goes Lupin," Hermione whispered. "He's transforming."

"Hermione!" I said suddenly. "We've got to move!"

"We mustn't, I keep telling you —"

"Not to interfere! Uncle Moony is going to run into the forest, right at us!"

Hermione gasped.

"Quick!" she moaned, dashing to untie Buckbeak. "Quick! Where are we going to go? Where are we going to hide? The Dementors will be coming any moment —"

"Back to Hagrid's!" Harry said. "It's empty now — come on!"

We ran as fast as we could, Buckbeak cantering along behind us. We could hear the werewolf howling behind us…

The cabin was in sight; Harry skidded to the door, wrenched it open, and Hermione, me and Buckbeak flashed past him; Harry threw himself in after us and bolted the door. Fang the boarhound barked loudly.

"Shh, Fang, it's us!" said Hermione, hurrying over and scratching his ears to quieten him. "That was really close!" she said to Harry and me.

"Yeah…"

I was looking out of the window. It was much harder to see what was going on from here. Buckbeak seemed very happy to find himself back inside Hagrid's house. He lay down in front of the fire, folded his wings contentedly, and seemed ready for a good nap.

"I think I'd better go outside again, you know," said Harry slowly. "I can't see what's going on — we won't know when it's time —"

Hermione looked up. Her expression was suspicious.

"I'm not going to try and interfere," said Harry quickly. "But if we don't see what's going on, how're we going to know when it's time to rescue Sirius?"

"Well… okay, then… I'll wait here with Buckbeak… but Harry, be careful — there's a werewolf out there — and the Dementors."

"I will go with him, just to make sure," I said.

Harry and me stepped outside again and edged around the cabin. I could hear yelping in the distance. That meant the Dementors were closing in on dad… Harry, me and Hermione would be running to him any moment…

I stared out toward the lake, my heart doing a kind of drumroll in my chest… Whoever had sent that Patronus would be appearing at any moment…

For a fraction of a second I stood, irresolute, in front of Hagrid's door. You must not be seen. But I didn't want to be seen. I wanted to do the seeing… I had to know…

And there were the Dementors. They were emerging out of the darkness from every direction, gliding around the edges of the lake… They were moving away from where I stood, to the opposite bank… I wouldn't have to get near them…

I began to run. I heard Harry doing the same. I had no thought in my head except my mother… If it was her… if it really was her… I had to know, had to find out…

The lake was coming nearer and nearer, but there was no sign of anybody. On the opposite bank, I could see tiny glimmers of silver — mine and Harry's attempts at a Patronus —

There was a bush at the very edge of the water. Harry and I threw ourself behind it, peering desperately through the leaves. On the opposite bank, the glimmers of silver were suddenly extinguished. A terrified excitement shot through me — any moment now —

"Come on!" Harry muttered, staring about. "Where are you? Dad, come on —"

But no one came. I raised my head to look at the circle of Dementors across the lake. One of them was lowering its hood. It was time for the rescuer to appear — but no one was coming to help this time —

And then it hit me — I understood. I hadn't seen my mother, I had seen myself —

I flung myself out from behind the bush and pulled out my wand. Harry was beside me, in the same position.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM! " we yelled.

And out of the end of my wand burst, not a shapeless cloud of mist, but a blinding, dazzling, silver animal. I screwed up my eyes, trying to see what it was. It looked big. It was running silently away from me, across the black surface of the lake. I saw it lower its head and charge at the swarming Dementors… Now it was running around and around the black shapes on the ground, and the Dementors were falling back, scattering, retreating into the darkness… They were gone.

The Patronus turned. It was running back toward me across the still surface of the water. It was a dog, no it was a Grimm. It was shining brightly as the moon above… it was coming back to me…

It stopped on the bank. Its paws made no mark on the soft ground as it stared at me with its large, silver eyes. Slowly, it bowed his head. And I realized…"Padfoot," I whispered.

But as my trembling fingertips stretched toward the creature, it vanished.

I stood there, hand still outstretched. Then, with a great leap of my heart, I heard hooves behind me. I whirled around and saw Hermione dashing toward us, dragging Buckbeak behind her.

"What did you do?" she said fiercely. "You said you were only going to keep a lookout!"

"We just saved all our lives…" said Harry. "Get behind here behind this bush — I'll explain."

Hermione listened to what had just happened with her mouth open yet again.

"Did anyone see you?"

"Yes, haven't you been listening? I saw me but I thought I was my dad! Aurora saw herself but thought it was her mother. It's okay!"

"Harry, I can't believe it… You two conjured up a Patronus that drove away all those Dementors! That's very, very advanced magic."

"I knew I could do it this time," said Harry, "because I'd already done it… Does that make sense?"

"I don't know — Harry, look at Snape!"

We peered around the bush at the other bank. Snape had regained consciousness. He was conjuring stretchers and lifting the limp forms of Harry, Hermione, me and Black onto them. A fifth stretcher, no doubt bearing Ron, was already floating at his side. Then, wand held out in front of him, he moved them away toward the castle.

"Right, it's nearly time," said Hermione tensely, looking at her watch. "We've got about forty-five minutes until Dumbledore locks the door to the hospital wing. We've got to rescue Sirius and get back into the ward before anybody realizes we're missing…"

We waited, watching the moving clouds reflected in the lake, while the bush next to us whispered in the breeze. Buckbeak, bored, was ferreting for worms again.

"Do you reckon he's up there yet?" said Harry, checking his watch. I looked up at the castle and began counting the windows to the right of the West Tower.

"Look!" Hermione whispered. "Who's that? Someone's coming back out of the castle!"

I stared through the darkness. The man was hurrying across the grounds, toward one of the entrances. Something shiny glinted in his belt.

"Macnair!" I said. "The executioner! He's gone to get the Dementors! This is it, Hermione —"

Hermione put her hands on Buckbeak's back and Harry gave her a leg up. Then he helped me to get he placed his foot on one of the lower branches of the bush and climbed up in front of me. He pulled Buckbeak's rope back over his neck and tied it to the other side of his collar like reins.

"Ready?" he whispered to us. "You'd better hold on to me —"

He nudged Buckbeak's sides with his heels.

Buckbeak soared straight into the dark air. I gripped his flanks with my knees, feeling the great wings rising powerfully beneath them. Hermione was holding me very tight around the waist; I could hear her muttering, "Oh, no — I don't like this oh, I really don't like this —"

I was holding on to Harry. I like flying, but I prefer a broom and not something I have no control over.

Harry urged Buckbeak forward. We were gliding quietly toward the upper floors of the castle… Harry pulled hard on the left-hand side of the rope, and Buckbeak turned. I was trying to count the windows flashing past —

"Whoa!" Harry said, pulling backward as hard as he could.

Buckbeak slowed down and we found ourselves at a stop, unless you counted the fact that we kept rising up and down several feet as the Hippogriff beat his wings to remain airborne.

"He's there!" I said, spotting dad as we rose up beside the window. I reached out, and as Buckbeak's wings fell, was able to tap sharply on the glass.

Dad looked up. I saw his jaw drop.

He leapt from his chair, hurried to the window and tried to open it, but it was locked.

"Stand back!" Hermione called to him, and she took out her wand, still gripping the back of my robes with her left hand.

"Alohomora!"

The window sprang open.

"How — how —?" said dad weakly, staring at the Hippogriff.

"Get on — there's not much time," said Harry, gripping Buckbeak firmly on either side of his sleek neck to hold him steady. "You've got to get out of here — the Dementors are coming — Macnair's gone to get them."

Dad placed a hand on either side of the window frame and heaved his head and shoulders out of it. It was very lucky he was so thin. In seconds, he had managed to fling one leg over Buckbeak's back and pull himself onto the Hippogriff behind Hermione.

"Okay, Buckbeak, up!" said Harry, shaking the rope. "Up to the tower — come on."

The Hippogriff gave one sweep of its mighty wings and we were soaring upward again, high as the top of the West Tower. Buckbeak landed with a clatter on the battlements, and Harry, Hermione and me slid off him at once.

"Sirius, you'd better go, quick," Harry panted. "They'll reach Flitwick's office any moment, they'll find out you're gone."

Buckbeak pawed the ground, tossing his sharp head.

"What happened to the other boy? Ron?" croaked dad.

"He's going to be okay. He's still out of it, but Madam Pomfrey says she'll be able to make him better. Quick — go —"

But dad was still staring down at Harry and me.

"How can I ever thank —"

"GO!" Harry and Hermione shouted together. I couldn't get any sound to leave my lips.

Dad wheeled Buckbeak around, facing the open sky.

"We'll see each other again," he said. "You are — truly your father's son, Harry… And you Aurora, you are as beautiful as your mother. I love you, my bright Star."

He squeezed Buckbeak's sides with his heels. Harry, Hermione and I jumped back as the enormous wings rose once more… The Hippogriff took off into the air… He and his rider became smaller and smaller as I gazed after them… then a cloud drifted across the moon… They were gone.

**A/N: It's like in the middle of the night that I wrote this. Could sleep, so I thought I could write this. Only one chapter left and then on with the next year. **

**Please review **


	18. Owl Post Again

**A/N: I don't own anything**

**Chapter 18: Owl Post Again**

"Harry!"

Hermione was tugging at his sleeve, staring at her watch. "We've got exactly ten minutes to get back down to the hospital wing without anybody seeing us — before Dumbledore locks the door —"

"Okay," said Harry, wrenching his gaze from the sky, "let's go…"

I looked a last time at the sky and followed them.

We slipped through the doorway behind us and down a tightly spiraling stone staircase. As we reached the bottom of it, we heard voices. We flattened ourselves against the wall and listened. It sounded like Fudge and Snape. They were walking quickly along the corridor at the foot of the staircase.

"… only hope Dumbledore's not going to make difficulties," Snape was saying. "The Kiss will be performed immediately?"

"As soon as Macnair returns with the Dementors. This whole Black affair has been highly embarrassing. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to informing the Daily Prophet that we've got him at last… I daresay they'll want to interview you, Snape… and once young Harry's back in his right mind, I expect he'll want to tell the Prophet exactly how you saved him…"

I clenched my teeth. I caught a glimpse of Snape's smirk as he and Fudge passed Harry's, Hermione's and my hiding place. Their footsteps died away. We waited a few moments to make sure they'd really gone, then started to run in the opposite direction. Down one staircase, then another, along a new corridor — then we heard a cackling ahead.

"Peeves!" Harry muttered, grabbing Hermione's and my wrist. "In here!"

We tore into a deserted classroom to our left just in time. Peeves seemed to be bouncing along the corridor in boisterous good spirits, laughing his head off.

"Oh, he's horrible," whispered Hermione, her ear to the door. "I bet he's all excited because the Dementors are going to finish off Sirius…" She checked her watch.

"Three minutes!"

We waited until Peeves's gloating voice had faded into the distance, then slid back out of the room and broke into a run again.

"Hermione — what'll happen — if we don't get back inside before Dumbledore locks the door?" Harry panted.

"I don't want to think about it!" Hermione moaned, checking her watch again. "One minute!"

We had reached the end of the corridor with the hospital wing entrance. "Okay — I can hear Dumbledore," said Hermione tensely. "Come on!"

We crept along the corridor. The door opened. Dumbledore's back appeared.

"I am going to lock you in," they heard him saying. "it is five minutes to midnight. Miss Granger, three turns should do it. Good luck."

Dumbledore backed out of the room, closed the door, and took out his wand to magically lock it. Panicking, Harry, Hermione and me ran forward. Dumbledore looked up, and a wide smile appeared under the long silver mustache. "Well?" he said quietly.

"We did it!" said Harry breathlessly. "Sirius has gone, on Buckbeak…"

Dumbledore beamed at us.

"Well done. I think —" He listened intently for any sound within the hospital wing. "Yes, I think you've gone too — get inside — I'll lock you in —"

Harry, Hermione and me slipped back inside the dormitory. It was empty except for Ron, who was still lying motionless in the end bed. As the lock clicked behind us, we crept back to our own beds, Hermione tucking the Time-Turner back under her robes. A moment later, Madam Pomfrey came striding back out of her office.

"Did I hear the headmaster leaving? Am I allowed to look after my patients now?"

She was in a very bad mood. Harry and Hermione thought it best to accept their chocolate quietly.

Madam Pomfrey stood over them, making sure they ate it. But they could hardly swallow. He and Hermione were waiting, listening, their nerves jangling…just as me, but I wasn't eating chocolate. And then, as they both took a fourth piece of chocolate from Madam Pomfrey, we heard a distant roar of fury echoing from somewhere above us…

"What was that?" said Madam Pomfrey in alarm.

Now we could hear angry voices, growing louder and louder. Madam Pomfrey was staring at the door.

"Really — they'll wake everybody up! What do they think they're doing?"

I was trying to hear what the voices were saying. They were drawing nearer —

"He must have Disapparated, Severus. We should have left somebody in the room with him. When this gets out —"

"HE DIDN'T DISAPPARATE!" Snape roared, now very close at hand. "YOU CAN'T APPARATE OR DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS — HAS — SOMETHING — TO — DO — WITH — POTTER!"

"Severus — be reasonable — Harry has been locked up —"

BAM.

The door of the hospital wing burst open.

Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore came striding into the ward. Dumbledore alone looked calm. Fudge appeared angry. But Snape was beside himself.

"OUT WITH IT, POTTER!" he bellowed. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"Professor Snape!" shrieked Madam Pomfrey. "Control yourself!"

"See here, Snape, be reasonable," said Fudge. "This door's been locked, we just saw —"

"THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!" Snape howled, pointing at Harry, Hermione and me. His face was twisted; spit was flying from his mouth.

"Calm down, man!" Fudge barked. "You're talking nonsense!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER!" shrieked Snape. "HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT —"

"That will do, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly. "Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the ward ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?"

"Of course not!" said Madam Pomfrey, bristling. "I would have heard them!"

"Well, there you have it, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "Unless you are suggesting that Harry, Hermione and Aurora are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further."

Snape stood there, seething, staring from Fudge, who looked thoroughly shocked at his behavior, to Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling behind his glasses. Snape whirled about, robes swishing behind him, and stormed out of the ward.

"Fellow seems quite unbalanced," said Fudge, staring after him. "I'd watch out for him if I were you, Dumbledore."

"Oh, he's not unbalanced," said Dumbledore quietly. "He's just suffered a severe disappointment."

"He's not the only one!" puffed Fudge. "The Daily Prophet's going to have a field day! We had Black cornered and he slipped through our fingers yet again! All it needs now is for the story of that Hippogriff's escape to get out, and I'll be a laughingstock! Well… I'd better go and notify the Ministry…"

"And the Dementors?" said Dumbledore. "They'll be removed from the school, I trust?"

"Oh yes, they'll have to go," said Fudge, running his fingers distractedly through his hair. "Never dreamed they'd attempt to administer the Kiss on an innocent boy and girls… Completely out of control… no, I'll have them packed off back to Azkaban tonight… Perhaps we should think about dragons at the school entrance…"

"Hagrid would like that," said Dumbledore, smiling at Harry and Hermione. What's that about?

As he and Fudge left the dormitory, Madam Pomfrey hurried to the door and locked it again. Muttering angrily to herself, she headed back to her office.

There was a low moan from the other end of the ward. Ron had woken up. We could see him sitting up, rubbing his head, looking around.

"What — what happened?" he groaned. "Harry? Why are we in here? Where's Sirius? Where's Lupin? What's going on?"

Harry and me looked at each other and then turned to Hermione.

"You explain," said Harry and me together, Harry helping himself to some more chocolate.

When Harry, Ron, Hermione and me left the hospital wing at noon the next day, it was to find an almost deserted castle. The sweltering, heat and the end of the exams meant that everyone was taking full advantage of another Hogsmeade visit. Neither Ron nor Hermione felt like going, however, so they and Harry and me wandered onto the grounds, still talking about the extraordinary events of the previous night and wondering where Sirius and Buckbeak were now. Sitting near the lake, watching the giant squid waving its tentacles lazily above the water, I lost the thread of the conversation as I looked across to the opposite bank. The Grrim had galloped toward me from there just last night…

A shadow fell across us and we looked up to see a very bleary-eyed Hagrid, mopping his sweaty face with one of his tablecloth-sized handkerchiefs and beaming down at us.

"Know I shouldn' feel happy, after wha' happened las' night," he said. "I mean, Black escapin' again, an, everythin' — but guess what?"

"What?" we said, pretending to look curious.

"Beaky! He escaped! He's free! Bin celebratin' all night!"

"That's wonderful!" said Hermione, giving Ron a reproving look because he looked as though he was close to laughing.

"Yeah… can't've tied him up properly," said Hagrid, gazing happily out over the grounds. "I was worried this mornin', mind… thought he mighta met Professor Lupin on the grounds, but Lupin says he never ate anythin' las' night…"

"What?" said Harry and me quickly.

"Blimey, haven' yeh heard?" said Hagrid, his smile fading a little. He lowered his voice, even though there was nobody in sight. "Er — Snape told all the Slytherins this mornin'… Thought everyone'd know by now… Professor Lupin's a werewolf, see. An' he was loose on the grounds las' night… He's packin' now, o' course."

"He's packing?" I said, alarmed. "Why?"

"Leavin', isn' he?" said Hagrid, looking surprised that I had to ask. "Resigned firs' thing this mornin'. Says he can't risk it happenin again."

I scrambled to my feet.

"I'm going to see him," I said to Ron, Hermione and Harry.

"But if he's resigned —"

" — doesn't sound like there's anything we can do —"

"I don't care. I still want to see him. I'll meet you back here."

"I'm going with you,' Harry said.

Uncle Moony's office door was open. He had already packed most of his things. The Grindylow's empty tank stood next to his battered old suitcase, which was open and nearly full. Uncle Moony was bending over something on his desk and looked up only when I knocked on the door.

"I saw you two coming," said uncle Moony, smiling. He pointed to the parchment he had been poring over. It was the Marauder's Map.

"We just saw Hagrid," said Harry. "And he said you'd resigned. It's not true, is it?"

"I'm afraid it is," said uncle Moony. He started opening his desk drawers and taking out the contents.

"Why?" I asked. "The Ministry of Magic don't think you were helping dad, do they?"

Uncle Moony crossed to the door and closed it behind Harry and me.

"No. Professor Dumbledore managed to convince Fudge that I was trying to save your lives." He sighed. "That was the final straw for Severus. I think the loss of the Order of Merlin hit him hard. So he — er — accidentally let slip that I am a werewolf this morning at breakfast."

"You're not leaving just because of that!" said Harry.

Uncle Moony smiled wryly.

"This time tomorrow, the owls will start arriving from parents… They will not want a werewolf teaching their children, Harry. And after last night, I see their point. I could have bitten any of you… That must never happen again."

"You're the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had!" said Harry. "Don't go!"

Uncle Moony shook his head and didn't speak. He carried on emptying his drawers. Uncle Moony said, "From what the headmaster told me this morning, you two saved a lot of lives last night. If I'm proud of anything I've done this year, it's how much you've learned… Tell me about your Patronus."

"How d'you know about that?" said Harry, distracted.

"What else could have driven the Dementors back?"

Harry and I told uncle Moony what had happened. When we'd finished, uncle Moony was smiling again.

"Yes, your father was always a stag when he transformed," he said. "You guessed right… that's why we called him Prongs. And you already know that your father is Padfoot, so I don't have to explain that."

Uncle Moony threw his last few books into his case, closed the desk drawers, and turned to look at Harry and me.

"Here — I brought this from the Shrieking Shack last night," he said, handing Harry back the Invisibility Cloak. "And…" He hesitated, then held out the Marauder's Map too. "I am no longer your teacher, so I don't feel guilty about giving you back this as well. It's no use to me, and I daresay you two, Ron, and Hermione will find uses for it."

Harry took the map and grinned and then give it to me, winking.

"You told me Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs would've wanted to lure me out of school… you said they'd have thought it was funny."

"And so we would have," said uncle Moony, now reaching down to close his case. "I have no hesitation in saying that James would have been highly disappointed if his son had never found any of the secret passages out of the castle."

There was a knock on the door. I hastily stuffed the Marauder's Map in my pocket and Harry the Invisibility Cloak into his pocket.

It was Professor Dumbledore. He didn't look surprised to see Harry and me there.

"Your carriage is at the gates, Remus," he said.

"Thank You, Headmaster."

Lupin picked up his old suitcase and the empty Grindylow tank.

"Well — good-bye, Harry," he said, smiling. "It has been a real pleasure teaching you. I feel sure we'll meet again sometime. Headmaster, there is no need to see me to the gates, I can manage…"

"What about me?" I asked.

"What about you?" uncle Moony asked me.

"Will I come back here next year or is it going to be like before?"

"If you wish, you can stay here. As matter of fact I even prefer it, I think I'm going to be very busy with hiding somebody. I'm going to pick you up at the train station. I'll see you then!" uncle Moony said.

He came to me and hugged me.

"Good-bye, then, Remus," said Dumbledore soberly.

Uncle Moony shifted the Grindylow tank slightly so that he and Dumbledore could shake hands. Then, with a final nod to Harry and a swift smile, Lupin left the office.

I sat down in my vacated chair, staring glumly at the floor. I heard the door close and looked up. Dumbledore was still there.

"Why so miserable, Harry, Aurora?" he said quietly. "You should be very proud of yourselves after last night."

"It didn't make any difference," said Harry bitterly. "Pettigrew got away."

"Didn't make any difference?" said Dumbledore quietly, "it made all the difference in the world, Harry. You helped uncover the truth. You saved an innocent man from a terrible fate."

Terrible. Something stirred in my memory. Greater and more terrible than ever before… Professor Trelawney's prediction!

"Professor Dumbledore — yesterday, when I was having my Divination exam, Professor Trelawney went very — very strange." I said.

"Indeed?" said Dumbledore. "Er — stranger than usual, you mean?"

"Yes… her voice went all deep and her eyes rolled and she said… she said Voldemort's servant was going to set out to return to him before midnight… She said the servant would help him come back to power." I stared up at Dumbledore. "And then she sort of became normal again, and she couldn't remember anything she'd said. Was it — was she making a real prediction?"

Dumbledore looked mildly impressed.

"Do you know, Aurora, I think she might have been." he said thoughtfully. "Who'd have thought it? That brings her total of real predictions up to two. I should offer her a pay raise…"

"But —" I looked at him, aghast. How could Dumbledore take this so calmly?

"But — I stopped dad and uncle Moony from killing Pettigrew! That makes it my fault if Voldemort comes back!"

"Our fault, Aurora, I was there to, remember," Harry said.

"It does not," said Dumbledore quietly. "Hasn't your experience with the Time-Turner taught you anything? The consequences of our actions are always so complicated, so diverse, that predicting the future is a very difficult business indeed… Professor Trelawney, bless her, is living proof of that… You did a very noble thing, in saving Pettigrew's life."

I looked down at that, still not sure if I did the right thing.

"But if he helps Voldemort back to power…"

"Pettigrew owes his life to you two. You have sent Voldemort a deputy who is in your debts… When a wizard saves another wizard's life, it creates a certain bond between them… and I'm much mistaken if Voldemort wants his servant in the debt of Harry Potter and Aurora Black."

"I don't want a connection with Pettigrew!" said Harry. "He betrayed my parents!"

"And he betrayed my family to!" I said.

"This is magic at its deepest, its most impenetrable. But trust me… the time may come when you will be very glad you saved Pettigrew's life."

I couldn't imagine when that would be. Dumbledore looked as though he knew what I was thinking.

"I knew your fathesr very well, both at Hogwarts and later," he said gently. "James would have saved Pettigrew too, I am sure of it. And Sirius would have listened to James."

I looked up at him. Dumbledore wouldn't laugh — we could tell Dumbledore…

"I thought it was my mother who'd conjured my Patronus. I mean, when I saw myself across the lake… I thought I was seeing her. Harry had the same idea."

"An easy mistake to make," said Dumbledore softly. "I expect you'll tire of hearing it, but you do look extraordinarily like Amy. And Harry, you like just like James. Except for the eyes… you have your mother's eyes."

I shook my head.

"It was stupid, thinking it was her," I muttered. "I mean, I knew she was dead."

"You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don't recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and your mother is still alive in you, Aurora and they shows themself most plainly when you have need of them. How else could you produce that particular Patronus? Prongs rode again last night. And so did Padfoot."

It took a moment for me to realize what Dumblefore had said.

"Last night Sirius told me all about how they became Animagi," said Dumbledore, smiling. "An extraordinary achievement — not least, keeping it quiet from me. And then I remembered the most unusual form your Patronus took, when it charged Mr. Malfoy down at your Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. You know, in a way, you did see your father and your mother again last night… You found them inside yourselves."

And Dumbledore left the office, leaving Harry and me to our very confused thoughts.

Nobody at Hogwarts now knew the truth of what had happened the night that dad, Buckbeak, and Pettigrew had vanished except Harry, Ron, Hermione, me and Professor Dumbledore. As the end of term approached, I heard many different theories about what had really happened, but none of them came close to the truth.

Malfoy was furious about Buckbeak. He was convinced that Hagrid had found a way of smuggling the Hippogriff to safety, and seemed outraged that he and his father had been outwitted by a gamekeeper.

Percy Weasley, meanwhile, had much to say on the subject of dad's escape.

"If I manage to get into the Ministry, I'll have a lot of proposals to make about Magical Law Enforcement!" he told the only person who would listen — his girlfriend, Penelope.

Though the weather was perfect, though the atmosphere was so cheerful, though I knew we had achieved the near impossible in helping dad to freedom, I had never approached the end of a school year in worse spirits.

I certainly wasn't the only one who was sorry to see uncle Moony go. The whole of our Defense Against the Dark Arts class was miserable about his resignation.

"Wonder what they'll give us next year?" said Seamus Finnigan gloomily.

"Maybe a vampire," suggested Dean Thomas hopefully.

It wasn't only uncle Moony's departure that was weighing on my mind. I couldn't help thinking a lot about Professor Trelawney's prediction. I kept wondering where Pettigrew was now, whether he had sought sanctuary with Voldemort yet. But the thing that was lowering my spirits most of all was the prospect of living without dad again. For maybe half an hour, a glorious half hour, I had believed I would be living with dad from now on … It would have been the best thing , having my own father back. And while no news of dad, was definitely good news, because it meant he had successfully gone into hiding, I couldn't help feeling miserable when I thought of the home I might have had, and the fact that it was now impossible. But I still had uncle Moony, so it wasn't that bad.

The exam results came out on the last day of term. Harry, Ron, Hermione and me had passed every subject. I was amazed that I had got through Potions. I had a shrewd suspicion that Dumbledore might have stepped in to stop Snape failing him on purpose. Snape's behavior toward Harry and me over the past week had been quite alarming. I wouldn't have thought it possible that Snape's dislike for me could increase, but it certainly had. A muscle twitched unpleasantly at the corner of Snape's thin mouth every time he looked at Harry and me, and he was constantly flexing his fingers, as though itching to place them around Harry's and my throat.

Percy had got his top-grade N.E.W.T.s; Fred and George had scraped a handful of O.W.L.s each. Gryffindor House, meanwhile, largely thanks to their spectacular performance in the Quidditch Cup, had won the House championship for the third year running. This meant that the end of term feast took place amid decorations of scarlet and gold, and that the Gryffindor table was the noisiest of the lot, as everybody celebrated. Even Harry managed to forget about the journey back to the Dursleys the next day as he ate, drank, talked, and laughed with the rest.

As the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station the next morning, Hermione gave Harry, Ron and me some surprising news.

"I went to see Professor McGonagall this morning, just before breakfast. I've decided to drop Muggle Studies."

"But you passed your exam with three hundred and twenty percent!" said Ron.

"I know," sighed Hermione, "but I can't stand another year like this one. That Time-Turner, it was driving me mad. I've handed it in. Without Muggle Studies and Divination, I'll be able to have a normal schedule again."

"I still can't believe you didn't tell us about it," said Ron grumpily. "We're supposed to be your friends."

"I promised I wouldn't tell anyone," said Hermione severely. She looked around at Harry, who was watching Hogwarts disappear from view behind a mountain. Two whole months before he'd see it again…

"Oh, cheer up, Harry!" said Hermione sadly.

"I'm okay," said Harry quickly. "Just thinking about the holidays."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about them too," said Ron. "Harry, you've got to come and stay with us. I'll fix it up with Mum and Dad, then I'll call you. I know how to use a fellytone now —"

"A telephone, Ron," said Hermione. "Honestly, you should take Muggle Studies next year…"

Ron ignored her.

"It's the Quidditch World Cup this summer!

How about it, Harry? Come and stay, and we'll go and see it! Dad can usually get tickets from work. And you to, Aurora. Your welcome to, I will talk to mom and dad about you not being bad and everything."

This proposal had the effect of cheering Harry and me up a great deal.

"Thanks Ron," I said smiling.

"Yeah… I bet the Dursleys'd be pleased to let me come… especially after what I did to Aunt Marge…" Harry said.

Feeling considerably more cheerful, Harry and me joined Ron and Hermione in several games of Exploding Snap, and when the witch with the tea cart arrived, Harry bought himself a very large lunch, though nothing with chocolate in it.

But it was late in the afternoon before the thing that made me truly happy turned up…

"Aurora," said Hermione suddenly, peering over my shoulder. "What's that thing outside your window?"

I turned to look outside. Something very small and gray was bobbing in and out of sight beyond the glass. I stood up for a better look and saw that it was a tiny owl, carrying a letter that was much too big for it. The owl was so small, in fact, that it kept tumbling over in the air, buffeted this way and that in the train's slipstream. I quickly pulled down the window, stretched out my arm, and caught it. It felt like a very fluffy ball. I brought it carefully inside.

The owl dropped its letter onto my seat and began zooming around our compartment, apparently very pleased with itself for accomplishing its task. Hedwig clicked her beak with a sort of dignified disapproval. Crookshanks sat up in his seat, following the owl with his great yellow eyes. Ron, noticing this, snatched the owl safely out of harm's way.

I picked up the letter. It was addressed to Harry and me. I ripped open the letter, and shouted, "It's from dad!"

"What?" said Ron, Hermione and Harry excitedly. "Read it aloud!"

Dear Aurora and Harry,

I hope this finds you before you reach your aunt and uncle. I don't know whether they're used to owl post, Harry.

Buckbeak and I are in hiding. I won't tell you where, in case this owl falls into the wrong hands. I have some doubt about his reliability, but he is the best I could find, and he did seem eager for the job.

I believe the Dementors are still searching for me, but they haven't a hope of finding me here. I am planning to allow some Muggles to glimpse me soon, a long way from Hogwarts, so that the security on the castle will be lifted.

There is something I never got around to telling you during our brief meeting. It was I who sent you the Firebolt, Harry.

"Ha!" said Hermione triumphantly. "See! I told you it was from him!"

"Yes, but he hadn't jinxed it, had he?" said Ron. "Ouch!" The tiny owl now hooting happily in his hand, had nibbled one of his fingers in what it seemed to think was an affectionate way.

– Crookshanks took the order to the Owl Office for me. I used your name but told them to take the gold from my own Gringotts vault. Please consider it as thirteen birthdays' worth of presents from your godfather.

And yes, you will get one to, Aurora, to make up for every presents I missed in your life.

Harry, I would also like to apologize for the fright I think I gave you that night last year when you left your uncle's house. I had only hoped to get a glimpse of you before starting my journey north, but I think the sight of me alarmed you.

I am enclosing something else for you to, which I think will make your next year at Hogwarts more enjoyable.

If ever you need me, send word. Your owls will find me.

I'll write again soon.

Sirius

I looked eagerly inside the envelope. There was another piece of parchment in there. I read it through quickly and felt suddenly as warm and contented as though I'd swallowed a bottle of hot butterbeer in one gulp.

I, Sirius Black, Aurora Black's father, hereby give her permission to visit Hogsmeade on weekends.

"That'll be good enough for Dumbledore!" I said happily. "There's one for you to, Harry."

I looked back at dad's letter. "Hang on, there's a PS…"

I thought your friend Ron might like to keep this owl, as it's my fault he no longer has a rat.

Ron's eyes widened. The minute owl was still hooting excitedly. "Keep him?" he said uncertainly. He looked closely at the owl for a moment; then, to Harry's, Hermione's and my great surprise, he held him out for Crookshanks to sniff.

"What do you reckon?" Ron asked the cat. "Definitely an owl?"

Crookshanks purred.

"That's good enough for me," said Ron happily. "He's mine."

Harry read and reread the letter from Sirius all the way back into King's Cross station. It was still clutched tightly in his hand as he, Ron, Hermione and me stepped back through the barrier of platform nine and three-quarters. I spotted Uncle Moony at once. He was standing close to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, talking with them. Mrs. Weasley hugged Harry goodbye and so did I.

"I'm going to miss you. Write often to me and I hope I can see you at the Cup!" I said to him.

"I'm going to miss you to. I'm glad I got to know you!"

Harry let go of me and I gave him a peck on his cheek.

"see you soon, I hope!" I said smiling.

"Yeah, me too!" he said also smiling.

"I'll call about the World Cup!" Ron yelled after Harry as Harry bid him and Hermione good-bye, then wheeled the trolley bearing his trunk and Hedwig's cage toward his uncle Vernon.

I turned around to the others. I greeted uncle Moony with a hug and telling him I have missed him. I then turned to Hermione and hugged her to, told her I would write a lot and she promised the same thing and that she would miss me. She went to her parents and she was gone.

Then it was Ron's turn. I put my arms around him and I could feel him stiffen. I wasn't going to let go until he hugged me back and he did. He said he was going to miss me and he would convince his parents to let me come over for the cup. I smiled at him and give him a peck on the cheek. He turned as red like a tomato. I smiled at him and then went to say goodbye to the twins. I give them both a kiss on the cheek. I said hello and goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and then followed uncle Moony out of the station.

I think this is going to be one of the greatest summers ever. I finally had friends to share it with.

**A/N: I can't believe it, the story is finished. As I said I'm going to write all the years. So the next story will be out very soon. I already started the first chapter. Look for it: **_**Daughter of Black: year 4**_

**I hope you enjoined this story and that you will read the next one 2.**

**Thanks for all the reviews and a thank you to all my fans ;) **

**Please review, I would really like to know what you thought of the whole story and if I have to make any changes let me know.**


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